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starsstuddedsky · 9 months

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What? Like It’s Hard?

gn reader x soonyoung

summary: With the help of a little bit of bleach, Soonyoung is certified legally blonde–complete to last minute-dedication to scoring as high as Elle Woods on the LSAT. While he has no interest in law school, he’s notorious for never turning down a dare. So how does a frat bro in serious danger of failing his senior year get a 179? He asks the smartest person he knows.

Or, studying for a law test has never seen this much chemistry.

genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers, opposites attract

warnings: swearing, drinking, food, arguing, a couple sex jokes, one spicy scene at the end but no actual smut, refusal to acknowledge feelings, what's the word for beyond oblivious????

full wc: 24.3k

playlist! - i'm not very good at this but i tried to add songs alternating between yn and soonyoung :)

a/n: hello!! first of all, sorry this so long! it's been a very very busy summer. thank you to everyone who has continued to show interest in the story, it's really kept me going. i honestly have no idea what this is anymore but i hope it does not disappoint :) as always i appreciate feedback of any form <3 thank you again for reading and have a lovely day! finally, happy scoups day :)

a/n2: a special shout out to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta and for helping me fact check... why do i keep writing about lawyers when i know absolutely nothing about the field.......

“Nope.” You grab your backpack, shoving your laptop inside, but he gets to your water bottle before you can reach it.

“Come on.” Soonyoung pouts his lips.

“I won’t do it,” you say.

Soonyoung hugs your water bottle hostage against his chest, dark blue hiding in the crook of his elbow, bright against the pale pink sweater he wears. It’s an unusual choice for him, normally clad in baggy jeans and loose t-shirts. Still, the color highlights his new hair, blonde bordering on white. Hardly the first time he’s done something insane for a bet.

“Please! I’m desperate!” He cries again, stepping closer, though he keeps a firm grip on your water bottle. You never should have told him how emotionally attached you are to it; you should have known it would be held against you.

“No,” you say. You sling your backpack on, just in case he gets any other ideas. The other students shoot dirty looks at you, actually in the library to study (like you were, until Soonyoung arrived). So you grab him by the arm, rolling your eyes at how he jerks the water bottle out of reach.

“Walk and talk, we’re not doing this here,” you say, folding your arms over your chest.

“Come on, how hard can it be?” Soonyoung asks. “It’s just a test.”

“Just a test?” You snort. “Soonyoung, you are aware that most people don’t apply to law school on a dare?”

“I don’t have to get into law school!” He says, “just get a 179 on the LSAT.”

As if that makes it any better. You eye Soonyoung and his tight grip on the plastic. Maybe it’s a lost cause and you should just swing by the bookstore to get a new one instead. But that water bottle has butterfly stickers that have survived since freshman year and a dent from the time Jun tried to use it as a weapon in a fight against Jihoon (that was declared a draw when the bottle busted open and doused both of them equally); it holds memories better than water and you’ll be damned if you let Soonyoung hold it hostage.

“That’s actually harder,” you mumble. From the corner of your eye, you can see him tucking the blue bottle under his right arm, farthest from you. This won’t be easy, especially since you saw the poorly disguised thirst trap of him and one of his frat bros at the gym: those arms are not to be underestimated.

“I’ll pay you!”

“With what money?”

Soonyoung pauses. You’ve reached the exit by now, sunlight warming you through the glass doors. He turns to the sunlight, and you know he’s pretending to be a main character from an artsy film (not that he’s ever seen on). He takes a deep breath, as if he already regrets what he has to say next.

“Okay, I’ll offer you the only services I have.” He turns to face you, eyes on the floor.

“Oh my god, Soonyoung!” You shove his shoulder. “You are not selling your body for a test!”

“But it’s all I know!” He says. He pokes your arms. “You could have so much muscle if you lifted just twice a week.”

“Oh.” You blink at him. “You meant working out?”

“What did you think I meant?”

You feel heat rush into your cheeks. You push the door open, praying Soonyoung doesn’t notice. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, not daring to check if he’s following. “I don’t have time to workout.”

“Then what do you want?” Soonyoung asks. He stays just out of reach, adjusting his grip so that the water bottle hangs from his hand. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Why do you need me?”

“Because you’re the smartest person I know,” he says without hesitation. In the three years of your friendship, you’ve learned that the only time Soonyoung isn’t serious is when he flirts.

“You are,” he insists. “Plus you’ve already taken it, so you’re my best chance. My only chance, it’s not like I have a good track record with tests.” He gives you a lopsided smile as he tries to pretend like he’s joking. But Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You see the sparkle in his eyes dim, and you remember freshman Soonyoung–when he failed the midterm and holed up in his room in the frat house for two full days, not even venturing out to drink. It’s that damn sparkle that gets to you. He isn’t paying attention anymore, water bottle hanging loosely from his hand, but you can’t bring yourself to snatch it.

“You can pass it,” you say with a sigh. “It’s about studying correctly.”

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung says. “I’ve never really studied.”

“Well, that’s what I’ll teach you.”

Soonyoung freezes, grabbing your arm. “Seriously?” When you turn to face him, his smile is so bright it warms you from the inside out, hotter than the actual sun on your skin. He throws his arms around you, wrapping you in a hug so tight he lifts you off the ground. Your heart does this strange thing where it hops into your throat. Your arms come up as a reflex but his embrace is too tight for you to even hug him back.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He shouts. He doesn’t let go, even when he sets you back down. He loosens his arms just enough to look at you, the full force of his smile directed at you. “I swear you’re welcome at the frat house any time, I’ll buy you anything you want when I have money, I’ll drive you wherever you want if I can get Seungcheol’s car, I’ll do whatever, just thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You know you should answer, or say something, but thinking is too much when he’s so close you can smell the strangely sweet combination of laundry detergent, cologne, and sweat. You push out of his arms, snagging your water bottle on the way out.

“It’s whatever,” you mumble. Though his arms aren’t around you anymore, you feel strangely hot, like your blood is boiling, and your heart still pounds.

“It is not whatever,” Soonyoung declares. “I swear, whatever you want, I’ll do it.” He holds a hand over his heart and if it was anyone else you’d think they were joking but it’s Soonyoung: he’s deadly serious.

You can’t handle his gaze anymore, turning to study your beat up sneakers. “Really? You’ll get my first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice from Jun?”

“I’ll get that book back.” He glances at you. “It is a book, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Though there’s been some good adaptations.”

“That’s the one with the zombies?”

“Zombies?” You frown. “Oh my god, do you mean Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?”

“That’s not the original book?”

“No,” you say, laughing. “The original is Jane Austen, in the 1800s.”

“Oh,” Soonyoung says.

“I’ve actually never seen that one,” you say. “It’s the only adaptation I haven’t seen.”

“How many movies are there?”

“Well, there’s the 1940 adaptation, the BBC series that’s widely regarded as the most faithful adaptation, the 2005 Kiera Knightley movie that’s iconic, plus the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, which is a vlog-style Youtube adaptation. Then of course there’s Jane Austen’s other works, like Persuasion, which, the new one, for the record, was a terrible adaptation.” You stop when you realize you’re dangerously close to going on what Jihoon calls ‘an Austen tirade.’

“I liked the movie,” he says after a pause. “I don’t know if it was that good, or close to the books. But it was fun.”

“I’ll have to watch it, then,” you say. “I know it’s the obvious choice, but Pride and Prejudice really is my favorite Jane Austen novel. Good luck getting it back from Jun though. He’s studying abroad this semester.”

“He’s the friend from your history class?”

“No, that’s Jihoon, my roommate,” you say. “Jun was in my language class.”

“I thought you hated everyone in that class.”

“Oh, I did,” you say. “But Jun is friends with Jihoon, so he sort of just became my friend too.”

Soonyoung hums, saying nothing else. You don’t recognize the song, though you tend to mostly listen to classical music when you study or whatever Jihoon blasts from his room, so it’s not that surprising. The melody is nice, though. Well, Soonyoung’s voice is.

“I really am grateful,” Soonyoung says. “I know I was begging, because I don’t think I can do this without you–well, I don’t know if I can do it with you, but you’re my only hope and–I’m rambling again.” He flashes a smile. “The point is, thank you.”

You shrug, feeling shy under his gaze. “It’ll help me study anyways,” you say. “You learn a lot when you teach.”

“I thought you already took it?”

“I only got a 150,” you say, sighing. “I need at least a 165.”

Soonyoung nods, forehead creasing like it always does when he’s lost in thought. “Thank you anyway.”

“Well, you swore to do whatever I tell you,” you say, desperate to change the subject. “Don’t think I won’t abuse that.”

“Oh, YN,” he says, “I’m counting on it.” He even winks.

You cough, choking at the outright flirting. Soonyoung hasn’t tried a line on you in so long you thought he’d used them all. He isn’t serious–it was engraved in his DNA the second he became a fully fledged member of Sigma Beta Tau but it’s not like many people flirt with you, so it’s hard to stop your heart from jumping.

You check your phone, unable to look him in the eyes. It’s 2:18 now, prime naptime if you can get back to your apartment before Jihoon gets back. But if it’s past two, unless he lied to you at the start of the semester, that means Soonyoung should be in his data ethics class. “Hey, don’t you have class right now?”

Soonyoung glances at the time on his phone. “Shit.” He takes off, sprinting across the grass, dodging three picnics and narrowly avoiding getting rocked in the back of the head by a frisbee. He pauses at the edge, turning back around to wave wildly at you.

“Thank you!” He shouts. The picnickers glance between you and him and you can feel the blush returning. Soonyoung doesn’t notice all the eyes on him, waving like a goofball one final time before sprinting off again. Like a whirlwind, he’s gone again, leaving you to stroll across campus and wonder what you just signed up for.

Soonyoung’s brow furrows into a frown, lips pulling together in a pout. He rests his chin on his hands, looking up at you from the table like a puppy that knows he’s in trouble. “That bad?”

“Your analytical reasoning was good!” You say, not wanting to destroy him just yet. “The logical analysis wasn’t that bad either, you just need practice.”

“Wasn’t there a third section?”

“The score for reading comprehension was pretty bad.” Horrendous, actually, but you can’t tell him that, not when he’s deflating faster than a balloon at a knife throwing contest. He sits back, head knocking lightly against the back of the stiff library chairs.

“We can work with this! It’s really not that bad,” you say. You reach out instinctively, wrapping your hands over his hands. Your thumb rests against the soft smooth skin of the back of his hand, the rest of your fingers brushing lightly against his calloused fingers. You jerk back when you realize what you’re doing, patting his hands once and grabbing the workbook in front of him as if it’s what you meant to do all along. You study the upside down words, not daring to look at the disgust that’s probably painted on Soonyoung’s face.

“You can start with practicing the logic problems,” you say, flipping through the work book. “I’ll figure out a strategy for the reading portion.”

Soonyoung heaves a sigh, sitting up and hunching over the workbook. You flip open one of your old workbooks and try to pretend like you’re not trying to melt away from embarrassment.

“This isn’t very much teaching,” Soonyoung says without looking up. “Lots of problem solving.”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing either,” you say. “I just watched a lot of youtube videos when I was studying last year. I should have known better than to take it over the summer, though.”

Soonyoung glances up. “How come?”

You chew on your lip. You’ve known Soonyoung for a while now, but you’ve never talked to him like this, mentioning any real things other than complaining about roommates. Soonyoung would listen, probably say the ‘right’ things, but it’s a study session, so you just say, “Just not good timing.”

He nods, returning to his humming. You turn to your own workbook, trying to figure out how to get Soonyoung to actually read the passages for the reading comprehension. Twenty minutes pass in an instant and Soonyoung drops his pencil, sliding his journal with the answers back in front of you. You flip to the answer key, scanning between the two.

“When are you taking it again?” Soonyoung asks while he waits.

“Just before Halloween,” you say. Exactly 38 days from now, according to the IMPENDING DOOM countdown clock on your phone.

“That soon?”

You shrug. “I wanted to give myself time to take it again in case I bomb it and it had to be before midterms, so, yeah.”

“Is it really that bad to take all your tests at once?” Soonyoung asks.

“I mean, finals week pretty much kills me every semester. I actually thought I was cutting it close with only two weeks between it and midterms.”

“Is November cutting it too close?”

“Depends on when in November you plan on taking it,” you say, “though you probably won’t be able to take it again if you don’t like your score.”

“Not a problem for me,” Soonyoung says. He doesn’t waver against your raised eyebrow. “I’m getting that 179, first try.”

“You’re that confident?”

“In you.” He winks. “Also the bet is off if I don’t get it on the first try.”

You nod. “Yeah, that makes more sense.” You glance at your calendar. “

“November 18th.”

“That’s not too bad, you dodged between midterms and finals, there should be plenty of cram time.”

Soonyoung shrugs. “I just scheduled it so that I would get the results before the Christmas party.”

“I didn’t think you would be the religious type.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he says. “The frat has this annual post-finals party before people go back home for holiday break, usually on the last day of finals. There’s no way I’m letting Seungkwan get away with my hard earned Playstation, and there’s no way he’d miss the party.”

“You can’t just buy your own game?”

“It’s a console actually,” he says, “and that’s not the point.” You prepare for some lecture about honor or frat code or something overly dramatic and inspired by any of the countless war propaganda movies he loves, but he closes his mouth.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” you say. You turn back his sheet, half the answers marked with a dark blue X because red feels too cruel. “You’re clearly committed.”

He sighs at the answers, flipping back to the first question and frowning. You think the conversation is over, but without looking up from glaring at the right answers, he says, “You should come.”

“To?”

“The Christmas party.”

You stare at the top of his head but he doesn’t seem to notice. You wonder how he manages to keep his hair so blonde without ruining his scalp but you don’t see any dandruff. “Me?” You finally say.

“You said you’d come, like, freshman year,” he says. “You never did.”

You did promise, back when you saw him for class every day. But frat parties weren’t your scene back then. They aren’t your scene now. Nothing about blasting music and binge drinking appeals to you, and yet Soonyoung peeking at you from his notebook makes you feel guilty anyways. He looks at you like he really doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go.

And that’s the worst part: for Soonyoung, you would go. When he looks at you with the damn Soonyoung Sparkle, you’d do anything.

“I’ll… think about it,” you finally say.

He looks at you for a moment longer, then nods, like he didn’t really expect you to say yes. You try not to feel like you’re letting him down.

“Can you explain this one to me,” he asks, turning the book so you can see it from across the table.

You skim the question, which turns out to be a series of questions about stained glass windows. You take a moment to glance between Soonyoung’s answers and the correct ones.

“Walk me through your process,” you say.

“Okay, I start with…”

“Soonyoung, are you even listening?”

He blinks at you, lifting his head from his arms. “Something about strategies? For reading?”

You snap the book shut, shaking your head. You open your mouth, speech on responsibility and studying on the tip of your tongue but one look into Soonyoung’s Sparkle Eyes (patent pending) and all the words are gone. You really need to figure out how to get around that super power.

“Come on, it’s so nice out,” he says. “We should be outside.” He grabs your hand. “This is not studying weather, this is dating weather.”

“Soonyoung your test is in two months, you seriously want to skip?” You don’t dignify the second part of his complaint with a response. The idea of Soonyoung on a date makes your stomach flip.

He sighs. “No, but it’s October, we won’t get many more nice days, so can we at least go outside?”

You hesitate a heartbeat too long and Soonyoung jumps up. He closes the workbook, knocking loose papers off the table and sending highlighters of every color flying in every direction. The chaos earns a couple side eyes from the people around you and a full on glare from the person directly next to him, but Soonyoung, as Soonyoung as ever, doesn’t seem to notice. He picks up the papers and highlighters, shoving them into his backpack without a folder and slinging it over his shoulder. You can only follow him, grabbing the drinks before he tries to carry them along his laptop. When it comes to Soonyoung, mixing liquids and technology is more dangerous than mixing alcohols. You haven’t forgotten The Coffee Incident, flooding his backpack at 8 in the morning.

He drags you out of the library, though you don’t put up much of a fight. Soonyoung makes you want to relax, just a little, and when he smiles back at you as soon as he steps out of the sunlight, you find you don’t regret a thing.

Soonyoung pulls his emergency blanket out of his blanket, passing it to you. He’s more prepared for naps than any class he’s ever taken but the thin fabric is soft so who are you to judge? He heads straight for the quad, which is already filled with people, some groups of friends, too many obvious couples with heads in each other's laps or arms wrapped around each other. Soonyoung settles down in a relatively unpopulated corner, taking the blanket back to shake it out the blanket a few times before laying it flat on the ground.

Soonyoung groans when you pull out the workbooks as soon as you sit down. “There isn’t anything more fun to study?”

“Soonyoung, it’s the LSAT,” you say. “It’s not really meant to be fun.”

“But–”

“You’re the one that wanted to go outside,” you remind him, tapping his arm with a pen. “If you’re too distracted we’ll have to go back into the library.”

He gazes at the other people laughing for a long moment before turning to face you again. You raise your eyebrows and he takes the workbook from your hands, flipping it open to the sticky-note bookmark.

The next twenty minutes are relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the chatter of the people around you, too far away to clearly hear, and Soonyoung humming while working through practice problems. You’re not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it, though he bobs his head slightly. You wonder what Soonyoung is like when he isn’t trying to get out of studying–even outside of the party invites you’ve avoided, you rarely see him on campus (because you aren’t on campus when you don’t have to be). You almost went to dinner with him to celebrate passing the business class freshman year where you met him, but you got food poisoning and he never rescheduled.

It’s for the best, though. Even like this, tutoring him minus payment of any kind, you can tell that spending too much time with him will be dangerous. He flirts so easily it feels genuine, and even though he can be ridiculous, he’s never been anything but lovely to you. And it doesn’t help that he’s hot. He glances up, as if he can feel you staring, but he just flashes a smile at you and ducks his head again. Damn frat bros with endearing charms that melt you like the perfect grilled cheese.

Perfectly blue without a cloud in sight, the sky is an empty canvas above you. The air is just the right temperature, just between hot and cold, the sun ensuring that it never dips into the latter. Just the slightest breeze kisses your skin, lifting the edges of the papers but never flipping them. Soonyoung was right: the perfect date weather.

“Soonyoung?” You turn your head to see a dark haired man standing over you. Wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and sides ripped open, you figure there’s a 80% chance he’s one of Soonyoung’s frat brothers.

“Seokmin?” Soonyoung frowns.

“You were actually serious?” Seokmin asks, gesturing to the books. “You know Seungkwan said it as a joke, right?”

“Yeah, but a bet is a bet,” Soonyoung says. “And I really want his Playstation.”

Seokmin snorts. “You know he only said it because he knows you can’t do it.”

“I’m not like I’m losing anything by trying.” Soonyoung sets his lips in a sharp line of determination (which you recognize from the dining hall when he sweet talks his way into free cookies). Seokmin raises his eyebrows at his aggression but eventually decides it’s not worth the fight. Instead, he plops down on the blanket, making a little triangle between the three of you.

“You must be YN,” he says, extending his hand. His easy smile and the way he sat down without waiting for an invitation reminds you of Soonyoung. Unlike the faux blonde, it feels foreign and you shift a little closer to Soonyoung instinctively.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you lie. Seokmin’s eyes curl into little half moons when he smiles, apparently not noticing your awkwardness. You can’t help but feel like he’s intruding as he turns to Soonyoung and asks him to explain what he’s doing. Soonyoung explains it well, though it helps that he was working on the analytical reasoning section.

It’s because he’s interrupting Soonyoung’s studying. That’s why it bothers you that he’s here, even though Soonyoung doesn’t seem to mind and Seokmin seems genuinely interested. Unfortunately, the revelation doesn’t stop you from wishing Seokmin would just leave.

“I don’t know how you do any of this,” Seokmin says after Soonyoung explains the next problem.

“It’s easy!” Soonyoung says. “Half the time the answer is in the question, you just have to know where to look!”

“Quoting me?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Well I did learn from the best!”

“So cliche,” you mutter but the compliment gets you smiling anyway. You look up to find Seokmin looking at you. He has a strange look on his face, frowning, but not angrily. He looks a little bit like when Soonyoung can’t decide between the right answer and the second best option. He doesn’t look away when you catch him staring.

“What?”

He pauses a long moment before answering, as if pondering how to answer. Finally, he says, “I like you.”

You stare at him. Soonyoung had been diligently working on practice problems but his head jerks up at the words.

“I mean, you’re a cool person,” Seokmin quickly says. “Good tutor for Soonyoung.” After hearing his name, Soonyoung grins and turns back to underlining in the workbook.

“Tutor?” You say. “I really don’t think I’m doing all that much.”

Seokmin shrugs. ”I don’t know many people that would spend this much time with someone if they aren't helping. Besides, either way, I’ve never seen Soonyoung this dedicated before.”

“That’s because you don’t dare to bet against me,” Soonyoung says without looking up.

“He might have a point there,” you say. Soonyoung takes a moment to smile at your support.

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re cool,” Seokmin says.

“Thank you?” You wait for him to say something else but he sits back and rests his hands behind him, stretching out in the sun a little more. Sighing, he tilts his head toward the sun.

“Seems like the weather will turn cold soon,” he says. “This might be the last warm day of the year.” He glances at Soonyoung. “And you’re spending it here instead of pre-gaming the Tau party.”

Soonyoung’s pencil freezes. He peeks up at Seokmin, then at you, then shrugs. “I take my bets seriously.”

“Whatever,” Seokmin says. He lays back fully, half of his body sticking off the blanket into the grass. “What are the Ke$ha lyrics? ‘The party don’t start ‘til Soonyoung walks in?’” He doesn’t wait for a correction. “I think I’ll wait until you're finished and we’ll tear it up together.”

Soonyoung glances at you, then unsuccessfully tries to hide his laughter at your expression. You don’t mean to be rude, but Seokmin really just invited himself all on his own and crashed your picnic. Study date. Outdoor study session. The name doesn’t matter, what does matter is it’s only supposed to be you and Soonyoung.

“He’ll fall asleep in about five seconds,” Soonyoung whispers. “He doesn’t actually care about the party, he just likes my nap blankets.” On that point you can’t really blame Seokmin.

“As long as it doesn’t disrupt your studying,” you say.

“Right,” Soonyoung says, more to himself than you. “That’s what’s important.”

You aren’t so oblivious that you miss his bitterness, but you are enough of a coward to decide not to ask about it. How do you even ask about something like that? You can barely answer his questions about the LSAT, so feelings? No chance.

You flip open your own workbook and set a pencil case down to keep the book open and ignore the soft snores from Seokmin. Soonyoung hums, the soft breeze carrying the gentle tune to you and easing you into a false sense of comfort, planting the idea that it’s always been like this and it always will be. But Soonyoung will take the LSAT in November and you will graduate in the spring and there won’t be any more excuses for seeing him, let alone laying out in the sun with him. Letting yourself enjoy this moment has dangerous consequences for your heart.

And yet you enjoy the warm sun on your skin and hum along with Soonyoung anyway. Seokmin is right: this kind of day won’t last long.

You jump awake at the sound. It takes you a moment to register where you are, to blink the sleep out of your eyes and recognize the stiff library chairs, the yellow tinted lighting of the study rooms on the third floor. Built like a prison cell with no windows and stained linoleum floors, you aren’t entirely sure how you fell asleep. The last thing you remember is working on your essay on Sense and Sensibility, which was rather difficult since you haven’t had the time to finish rereading it. Your book rests on the table next to your open laptop, screen dark.

A second knock reminds you why you woke up in the first place and you turn to the door. Through the glass door you see a student with a backpack hanging off their shoulder, half smiling. They turn the knob, opening the door just enough to stick their head in.

“Hey, sorry, I think I have the room scheduled,” they say.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I lost track of time,” you say, slamming your laptop shut and shoving everything into your backpack. To their credit, the other student doesn’t rush you, even apologizing and telling you to take your time. But if you’ve lost the room, that means the two hours you had booked the study room for–the two hours you designated for writing the essay and doing problem sets–were spent asleep, which means the LSAT cram schedule has been completely thrown off with only three days before the test.

You groan as you step into the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor. The farther up, the more intense the quiet levels get. Hopefully it won’t be so quiet that you fall asleep, but since you got a nap, you should be able to power through an all-nighter. It wouldn’t be the first time. You brace yourself to check your phone for the time, though being kicked out of the room means you already know your fate. 9:08 means that you have a little less than three hours until the library closes. You’ve done more with less time.

The first couple desks are occupied by students but you don’t stray, heading for a familiar corner, ignoring the empty desks that line the stacks. Your corner, that you found freshman year during finals season when you couldn’t find an empty desk, is perfect: hidden behind the encyclopedia shelves with a light directly above it, only three dicks carved into it–all on the underside (discovered on a particularly bad day where you found it most comfortable to lay underneath and rethink your entire life). You smile at the small comfort, striding through the stacks with Sense and Sensibility still in your arms.

You nearly drop the book when you see the backpack, abruptly turning despite the fact that it must have been obvious to whoever stole your corner that you were headed there. You feel rage boiling up and threatening to spill. You close your eyes, reminding yourself that the corner isn’t actually yours. Still, as you settle into a desk facing a giant window that reveals the dark campus, you can’t help but feel bitter. Your thoughts stray to the desk that should be yours, even as you pull out your computer.

BATTERY LOW

The words light up your screen, mocking you before the screen falls dark again. You dig in your backpack for your charger that you always slip into the main pocket. You feel your underused pencil pouch, the single journal since you keep most of your notes on your laptop, LSAT prep book, your three folders, and no charger. Even when you look inside and lay the entire contents of your backpack on the desk in front of you, the only charger you find is for your phone. Which means the longer laptop cord is probably sitting on your desk, all the way back at your apartment.

A twenty minute walk back, twenty minutes less for writing your essay. You can start it on your phone, maybe, though the thought of switching between reading the Sparknotes and typing already exhausts you. It’s moot anyways, since all you can do is sit and stare at the desk, covered in the contents of your soul. This is what your life has become: a stack of paper that weighs less than the digital universe on your laptop that’s all contingent on a $15 charger that abandons you when you need it most.

In the end it isn’t the rage that gets to you. It’s the hilarity of it all, how silly it is that your life is dictated by something so stupid.

The fifth floor decrees silence, so you make sure that your sobs don’t make a noise. You can’t control the tears but you can hold your breath. When your head starts to feel light and your lungs are desperate for air, you can breathe through your mouth and inhale as slow as you can to keep the shakiness to a minimum. You can do everything you can to hold it together, even when you’re falling apart.

Someone taps you on the shoulder. You lift your head, ready to face a tired librarian kicking you out but instead you see bleach blonde hair and a forced smile over a furrowed brow.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, glad for the quiet because you don’t trust your voice to support you.

He holds up a thick, leatherbound book. LSAT for Dummies. “Extra reading couldn’t hurt, right?”

You blink at him. The only times you’ve seen Soonyoung in the library on his own has been with a thick blanket and closed eyes (it’s how you know he sleeps with his mouth open, just a little). You can’t quite believe he’s in front of you and yet he takes a step closer and doesn’t vanish.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“Shhh,” you say, holding your finger to your lips to get him to quiet down, even though there’s no one in sight. “Quiet floor.”

He nods, looking around as if he’s waiting for someone to kick him out. He turns to look at your desk, the contents of your backpack still strewn about. He tilts his head but doesn’t dare raise his voice to ask. You know he hasn’t missed the tears, still wet on your cheeks.

You done? He mouths.

Not even close, you think, but you nod anyways because it’s the easier answer. Soonyoung doesn’t hesitate, gently closing your laptop and sweeping everything into your backpack. You watch as he dumps it all into the biggest pocket, zipping it up and slinging it onto his back. He tucks the law book under his arm and holds out his other hand for you to take.

“Come on,” he whispers. And you take it, let him pull you out of your chair. The walk to the elevator; out of the library; toward the edge of campus; nothing feels far when Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your hand. You follow him in a daze, clinging to his hand in the off-chance that all your luck rides on him–like if you let go, you’ll lose your tether to this planet.

Soonyoung rarely walks in silence and today is not an exception. He rambles about the only member of the frat capable of cooking that apparently can’t do anything without creating a giant mess. Even as he complains about the guy, Soonyoung can’t help defending him, explaining in mouth-watering detail how good his food is.

“One time he crowd sourced some steaks and did a grill for the new pledges and they all thought it was a prank or something and nearly cried when he actually let them eat them. I think they burnt their mouths from eating it too fast, afraid someone was going to take it away from them.” Soonyoung stops at the edge of campus. He glances at you, a question in his eyes. Where are we going?

“Soonyoung,” you say. Squeezing his hand feels natural. “I don’t really want to go back right now.”

He nods, squeezing your hand back. “You want to go for a ride?”

“You have a car?”

“Nope.” Soonyoung fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes a call. You can only hear Soonyoung, who says, “I need a ride,” and “Pick me up by the duck statue,” and then he hangs up.

The edge of campus that Soonyoung drags you to is right next to the athletic fields, which explains why there is a giant statue of the mascot that towers over you. It has three of its own personal spotlights and shiny claws from fans rubbing them for good luck, despite there being no official tradition. You only went to one game, mostly to confirm you would rather be anywhere else (except maybe the bathroom of the stadium). Either way, the only thing you do know about the statue and mascot for your school is that it is not a duck.

“That’s a raven.” You point at the statue.

Soonyoung frowns between you and the hunk of metal. “Oh, Larry?”

“It has a name?”

“Well, there’s the official name, which is like, Midnight Rain or something, and the frat name.”

“And the frat name is Larry?”

Soonyoung shrugs. “I didn’t choose it.”

“And you call it a duck, too?”

“It looks like a duck.”

You study the statue. You aren’t an ornithologist, but you’re pretty sure ducks have webbed feet instead of talons, and different beaks. Plus you’ve never seen a pure black duck. But you’ve spent enough time with Soonyoung to know it doesn’t have to make sense when the frat is involved (in fact, you’ve found sense is rarely involved in their decisions).

“We just call it the duck. Or Larry, when we want to be formal.” Soonyoung jumps at the honk of a horn. You turn around with him to find an obnoxiously red convertible parked against the curb. The driver’s smooth black hair is styled to look effortless, hair falling just above his eyes, and he wears sunglasses despite the fact that the sun went down three hours ago. He might be attractive, if he wasn’t trying so hard. You never thought you had a type, but someone like Soonyoung, who wears clothes that he likes and sticks his hair straight up because he thinks it looks funny–that’s more your style.

“Here’s our ride,” Soonyoung says. He starts walking, pulling you with him, still holding your hand. You aren’t sure if he even realizes, but you’re in no hurry to remind him.

“Hey Josh,” he says.

Driver (Josh, apparently), finally pulls off his sunglasses. “Soonyoung, you have a friend.”

“I’m YN,” you say, wishing your voice didn’t sound so scratchy from crying.

“Oh, I know,” he says, a twinkle in his eye that flirts between danger and fun. “I’m Joshua.” You try not to feel unsettled by it. He raises an eyebrow as Soonyoung slides into the backseat and you sit beside him. “Am I just an Uber to you?”

“Seungcheol is out and I knew there was no way you would let me drive your car,” Soonyoung says.

“So, yes?”

Soonyoung shrugs and laughs at Joshua’s expression.

“Where are we headed?” He asks with a resigned sigh as if he’s used to Soonyoung’s antics. Has he done this before? You frown. Why does it matter to you if he’s done this with someone else? You’re so busy with the internal war, you miss Soonyoung’s answer.

“Seriously?” Joshua asks. “It’s a weeknight.”

“Like that’s ever been a problem for you.”

Joshua glances at you. “You’re okay with this?”

You pause. You don’t actually know where Soonyoung said to go. But it’s Soonyoung, your heart says. You're inclined to agree with it tonight. “Yeah.”

He shakes his head and mutters something you don’t catch and kicks the car into gear. Before long, you are flying down a two lane road you didn’t even know existed. The wind starts to pick up with the top of the car down, blasting your face. Though your nose is still stuffed from crying, the air fills your lungs, tasting like dead leaves and unnatural warmth courtesy of climate change. For the first time tonight, you can breathe.

The clock reads just shy of 1 am by the time the car stops. As soon as the rumbling engine cuts out, another noise takes over, drowning everything else out. Crashes too rhythmic to be thunder, the blows softened by tall dunes illuminated by the car’s headlights that Joshua didn’t turn off.

Soonyoung turns to you with a grin. “Ready to have some fun?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, jumping out of the car instead of opening the door, ignoring Joshua’s shout. He sprints toward the crashing waves.

Joshua shakes his head, opening his door and ushering you out from the back. He even closes the door behind you, folding his arms over his chest and walking slowly to the beach with you. The headlights cut out but the moon and stars shine enough to see where the boardwalk ends and the sand begins. Soonyoung’s movement gives him away more than any light, running alongside the water and dancing with the tide.

You clear your throat. The ride cleared your head enough for you to feel properly embarrassed about meeting someone right after sobbing. You shudder to imagine how terrible you looked when he first picked you up, clinging to Soonyoung like he was the only thing keeping you alive. A blush forms just at the thought of it.

“So, you do this often?” You ask.

“Do something truly insane because of Soonyoung? All the time.” Joshua laughs. “We don’t usually end up this far away though, and usually someone’s life is in imminent danger.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you say, watching Soonyoung strip his socks and shoes off and toss them behind him. One sock gets caught in the wind and blows back toward you and Joshua.

Joshua stops before the two of you can catch up to him. You turn to look at him. It’s difficult to read his expression in the moonlight but he frowns like he’s not sure he should say something. Eventually he says, “I’m going for a walk down the boardwalk.” He glances at Soonyoung, then back at you and smiles. “Have fun with him.”

You watch him turn around and trudge back up the sand, wondering if all of Soonyoung’s friends are this strange. Maybe it’s just being in a frat. You grab Soonyoung’s sock and set it with his shoes, smiling when he turns around and waves like a maniac.

“It’s the ocean!” He shouts over the crashes.

“You’re soaked!” You shout back. He glances down and apparently finally realizes his shirt is wet, clinging to his shoulders already. He strides back toward you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer.

“My shoes are not coming off!” You warn him.

“Just come closer!” He says. “It’s amazing!” You stand with him at the edge of the water, watching it rise in the darkness and draw closer and closer. It crashes on the sand first, a violent move, kicking up wet sand and mixing it with white water. The frothy white water creeps forward, until you have to dance backward. Soonyoung stays in the water, letting it wash around his feet.

“It feels better like this,” he says.

“My feet are covered in enough sand,” you say, though he does look like he’s having fun. The water must be freezing this time of the year–it would feel so nice running over your skin. But you’d end up with wet socks and even more sand in your shoes to clean out.

Soonyoung holds out his hand. “You’d like this.”

You chew on your lip. Normally you’d laugh in his face and say ‘not a chance.’ But normalcy has never been running three hours away to the beach in the middle of the night when you have class at 9 in the morning. You pull off the sneakers without untying them and pull your socks off, setting them next to Soonyoung’s and joining him at the edge of the water. His hand isn’t out by the time you return but he slips it into yours when you join his side.

Another wave crashes and you watch the water creep forward, faster than you expect it to be–and you’re right, it’s freezing, but Soonyoung’s right too, it sends an icy shock throughout your body that sends a tingly rush up from your toes to every nerve in your body, setting them on fire. You squeeze his hand and laugh.

“Good?” He asks.

“I love it.”

You don’t know how long you stand there, holding onto Soonyoung’s hand and letting the water wash over you. After a few waves, it doesn’t feel cold anymore. You stand until your feet are buried in wet sand, each wave sending you lower and lower.

“My feet are freezing,” Soonyoung eventually says.

“Mine, too.” You lift your feet reluctantly, already missing the coarse sand and cold water. You have to let go of Soonyoung’s hand to put on your socks and shoes, shuddering at all the sand in your socks. The cotton became damp from sitting too close to the water, your shoes faring the same. Yet you don’t regret a second of it.

You stand up and stretch, feeling your spine pop. When you turn back around, you almost scream. You manage to contain it to a gasp, a wheezing Soonyoung’s name. He blinks at you innocently, like he isn’t standing in front of you with his shirt in his hand.

“What are you doing?” You choke out.

“We’re at the beach,” he says. “I have to take pictures.”

“And you need to take off your shirt for that?”

“Why? Does it bother you?” He smirks.

Muscles have never been a selling point for you. The “people” you’ve crushed on have all been smart or kind, crushes of intellect rather than bodies. His toned abs, sculpted shoulders, the way his body curves gently as he allows you to stare at him–normally it wouldn’t get to you at all (other than the embarrassment of being this close to a shirtless man for the first time in a long time). But it’s not just the muscles. It’s Soonyoung, your Soonyoung who calls you at four in the morning to tell you about the movie he just finished and is too endearing for you to truly be annoyed at. It’s the Soonyoung that gets lost in the Engineering building even as a senior. It’s the Soonyoung that drags you to the beach in the middle of the night just to make you smile. Yes, it bothers you. No one should be this incredible and hot.

“No,” you mumble, failing to convince yourself of the lie.

Soonyoung seems to be done teasing you, dropping his shirt into your hands. He walks a little closer to the waves, apparently not bothered by the chilly ocean breeze. He starts to pose, then raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to take pictures?”

“Where’s your phone?”

“The camera’s broken,” he says. “Just use yours and you can send them to me.” He continues to pose, flexing his arms as subtly as he can which isn’t particularly subtle (though the muscles are even more impressive in person). You are tempted to reach out and feel the tension, before you realize you are staring again.

You numb to Soonyoung in this half-dressed state as you take the pictures. The frat must have a professional photographer or something, because Soonyoung knows how to pose. Despite some of the angles and positions seeming awkward, each picture comes out as if from a photoshoot. He only gives you a few instructions on taking pictures, and compliments you way beyond your talents.

“Just like that!” Soonyoung says, breaking his model face to grin at you. “You’re really good at this.”

“You can’t even see the pictures,” you say. You bite your lips so you don’t smile. Apparently that doesn’t matter, because he keeps posing. It’s a good thing you just upgraded your phone storage because you estimate at least a thousand pictures are taken for each pose.

“Are you guys done?” You jump at the voice next to you. Apparently Joshua returned from his walk, sneaking up using the crashing waves as cover. “We should head back soon if you want to make your morning classes.”

“Definitely want to,” you say. You haven’t gotten any work done, but that’s no excuse to skip class. Soonyoung pouts but doesn’t argue.

“Perfect!” Joshua claps his hands together. He shoves you toward Soonyoung and grabs your phone. “One more picture together and we’ll go.”

Being at a distance worked perfectly fine but those muscles have you frozen in place again. Soonyoung throws an arm over your shoulders and grins like you do this all the time. His biceps press through your jacket, the flex of the muscle exactly as you imagined it, not that it stops your heart from thundering.

You can’t help but steal a glance at Soonyoung. Despite feeling like you’ll malfunction at any second, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. Soonyoung’s features look soft this close, even the sharp cut of his jawline. You want to study every line of his face, each curve, memorize it until the way his lips slowly curl into a smile is carved into your heart. Spending the rest of your life here doesn’t seem too bad.

“Let’s go,” Joshua says, breaking whatever magic froze time for you. You are left with cold toes and sand in your sneakers as you march up the dune and back to Joshua’s car.

“I just cleaned it,” he groans, looking at all the sand you and Soonyoung tracked in.

You mumble an apology but when you try to offer to clean it for him, he shakes his head. “Nobody touches my baby.”

You glance at Soonyoung, who followed you into the backseat again. He rolls his eyes at Joshua, smiling in a way that you know means he isn’t serious. You smile back at him and click your seatbelt into place.

“Address?” Joshua asks, handing you his phone. You punch it in and hand the phone back. 3 hours and sixteen minutes.

Joshua whistles, seeing the arrival time of 4:53. “Remind me never to do this again.”

“The beach was your idea,” Soonyoung says. His words slur a little.

“Just go to sleep already,” Joshua says. The engine rumbles on and he pulls away from the empty boardwalk.

“‘m not even tired,” Soonyoung says, fighting a yawn. He slouches and leans against the headrest, rolling his head to look at you. “You have class in the morning?”

“Not until nine.”

“That’s good.” He doesn’t succeed in fighting the yawn this time. His blinks become longer and longer, eyes closing more than opening. It’s like watching the energizer bunny shut down.

“Soonyoung?”

He opens his eyes and you think maybe he’d wait for the rest of his life for you to say something.

“Thank you.”

“Always.” He smiles lazily. “I swore I’d do anything.”

His sworn loyalty. It should be fun, having a boy like him dedicated to fulfilling your wishes. But what would it be like if he wasn’t sworn to you? If he did these kinds of things just because he wants to?

You didn’t think you were tired but the next thing you know, Soonyoung gently shakes you awake.

“We’re here,” he says in a quiet, very un-Soonyoung voice.

You blink at him, trying to figure out why your neck hurts so much, frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings. From the rear view mirror, Joshua watches you. Right, instead of writing your essay, doing the problem sets, or any of the readings, you went to the beach. You wait for the guilt to set in but it doesn’t come. None of the anxieties from earlier in the evening (the technical part of your brain reminds you it was the night before) overwhelm you.

“Right,” you say, clearing your throat. Your mouth tastes nasty but before you can say anything, Soonyoung hands you a water bottle. You take a sip before saying thank you.

Soonyoung unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you up.”

You nod, grateful you don’t have to ask him. The night has been a full adventure on its own yet you aren’t quite ready for it to be over. At least you aren’t ready to say goodbye to Soonyoung.

There’s still something you want to tell him. You want to tell him that you like his blonde hair, even though everyone else thinks it’s ridiculous. You want to tell him that you lied earlier, you nearly lost your mind seeing him shirtless. You want to tell him that you feel proud when he gets the right answer on the first try, that you think his concentration frown is cute, that you’ve never enjoyed studying like you do when he’s by your side. You want to tell him that on your worst days, days like today, just being Soonyoung makes it better.

But you learned a long time ago tired ramblings and drunk confessions are siblings. They both end in heartbreak and twelve packs of ramen.

So you ride the elevator with him and watch the lights flicker. You never cared when Jihoon brought his friends (well, Jun) over, but the carpets that look dirty no matter how many times they’re cleaned and beige walls are even worse tonight. You can stand to live in a boring apartment, but not a dirty one.

“This is me,” you say, gesturing to 808. You turn your back on the door, facing Soonyoung instead. He looks radiant under the fluorescent hallway lights, which really isn’t fair. They make his bleach blonde hair look natural, highlight the blemishes on his skin, easy to see when he’s this close.

You should go inside and he should go back down but neither of you move. For the second time tonight, you are frozen in time with Soonyoung.

The floor creaks and you jump, turning around at the same time, accidentally knocking into Soonyoung’s chest as you turn to face the noise behind you. Jihoon, gym bag over his shoulder, frowns at you across the hallway.

“Are you seriously just getting back now?”

Shit. You never texted him. “Um, Jihoon, this is Soonyoung,” you say. He waves behind you. “Soonyoung, Jihoon.”

Jihoon folds his arms. “I’ve heard about you.” You glare at him, which he ignores. “You’re taking the LSAT on a dare?”

“You’re the one that wants to be a music producer?”

Jihoon raises his eyebrows and looks at you. “You’ve mentioned me?”

“Only the worst,” you say, smiling at him.

“I thought you were at the library all night?” Jihoon says.

“We went on an adventure,” you say. You show him your sandy shoes. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear he knows he interrupted something, but the stubborn asshole doesn’t move.

You turn back to Soonyoung. “Goodnight,” you say, resisting the urge to hug him.

“It’s morning,” Jihoon says.

“Goodnight,” Soonyoung says, glancing at Jihoon. He pauses and fidgets with the hem of his shirt but finally gives you a half hug that feels more like a bro hug than anything else. He disappears into the elevator then pops his head out a final time “Send me the photos!”

You turn to Jihoon. “I forgot to text you.”

“I figured I’d wait until the morning to call,” he said. “Even if you were kidnapped there’s still a 90% chance you’d figure out a way to show up for class on time.” He turns the key in the lock and strides into the apartment. You’re too tired to argue back, especially when he’s right, so you just follow him into the apartment.

“I like him,” Jihoon says before you vanish into your room.

“Should I find you a wedding dress?” You say. “Soonyoung is single.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes and grabs a protein shake from the fridge. “Why do I even bother?”

You don’t wait for him to leave first, peeling your shoes off in the entryway where you can sweep up the sand and practically fall into your room. It’s race to change into an old t-shirt before you collapse onto your bed.

You set an alarm for 8:30 and check fifty times to make sure it’s actually set. Then you open your camera roll, shaking your head at the countless pictures. You choose twenty non-blurry ones before your eyes start to droop. You scroll to the bottom and click on the pictures Joshua took. Soonyoung grins for the camera, his easy smile as captivating on your phone as it is in person. You are staring at him, a soft smile on your lips and hearts practically bugging out of your eyes. It’s so ridiculously obvious how you feel. You send him his thirst traps and keep that picture for yourself.

It takes a week for you to realize Soonyoung never posted the pictures.

The weight of the world has the decency to wait until you’re home to fall on your shoulders. You hold your keys up and can’t push it into the lock. If you didn’t do well today, it means the past two months have been a complete waste–all the studying, the assignments you got low grades on because you were studying, the nights you spent at your desk–wasted and doomed to repeat.

All but the time you spent with Soonyoung. Even if you fail (again), he should at least score decently, and you can’t consider that a complete waste.

You raise your key to insert it into the lock but the door flies open. Jihoon glares at you, arms folded over his chest. “What the hell is taking you so long, your boyfriend is here.”

You peer past him and find Soonyoung lounging on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table. He sits up when he sees you, grinning and waving. You wonder if he’s been there since you told him you were finished. You make a mental note to get Jihoon his favorite protein shakes.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Me and your boyfriend heard you shaking your keys in front of the door for like twenty minutes,” Jihoon says.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, praying Soonyoung didn’t hear either of you. You push past Jihoon, letting him lock the door behind you. Soonyoung jumps off the couch as soon as you drop your bag, almost tackling you in a hug. You pretend not to hear Jihoon’s scoff as he locks himself in his room again.

“How’d it go?” He asks, squeezing you one more time before letting go. You try not to feel disappointed about it. “I mean, I know you did amazing, but how do you feel? Was the room super hot or super cold? Did the proctor give you the evil eye when you turned in your paper because they were secretly trying to sabotage you?”

“No?” You frown. “And the room was fine, I felt pretty good about it, but I felt good last time, so I don’t really know, I just really don’t want to take it again.” You sigh. “I know you want to know as many details as possible for your test, but I really, really don’t want to think about it right now.”

Soonyoung grins and pulls out a package of White Claws and a bottle of vodka from a plastic bag that you just noticed sitting on your coffee table. “That’s perfect because I brought a gift from the whole frat.”

“That seems pretty on brand,” you say.

“And a gift from me.” He digs again and pulls out a DVD. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

“You’re kidding.” You say. “I think I have to be drunk to watch that.”

“You don’t have faith in my taste in movies?” Soonyoung asks but he pops open the first drink and slips something shaped concerningly like a knife out of his pocket and stabs the can, chugging it before it can really spill on your carpet. Before you can register what he did, he tosses the empty can on the coffee table, immediately scrambling to straighten it. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“Soonyoung, I don’t think I can keep up with you,” you say, sitting slowly onto the couch.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m a lightweight,” he says. “I definitely should not have chugged that.”

“I guess I better catch up,” you say, unscrewing the vodka and pouring a shot in the little paper cups that Soonyoung brought. The acrid scent curls your lip but you knock it back as fast as you can, forcing it down when you miss the back of your throat and it burns your tongue. Soonyoung hands you a can, the lime flavored seltzer pushing the nasty flavor out of your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m terrible at that,” you say.

Soonyoung shrugs. “I’m not one to judge. You should have seen me as a pledge.”

You grin at the mental image of Soonyoung wearing a fake toga made of bedsheets. “I bet you were adorable.” You take another sip of the drink (which tastes significantly worse when you aren’t comparing it to straight vodka) and miss Soonyoung scrambling for words.

“I can’t drink this,” you declare, setting the can down. You cross the room to the fridge, opening it and studying the contents. Soonyoung follows you, resting his chin on the door and glancing inside.

“Jihoon does most of the cooking,” you say, feeling self-conscious. Not much populates your fridge, a package of chicken breast and a carton of eggs. A couple containers of take out that are either two days or two weeks old sit in front, and the drawer of fruit that is filled with apples from Jihoon’s mother definitely smells funny.

“I live in a frat house, this is heaven.”

You flash him a smile and grab the orange juice, shaking it as you grab a glass from the cabinet (thank god Jihoon did the dishes last night). Soonyoung follows you back to the couch and waits for you to pour a glass and add two shots of vodka. You raise the glass and he takes your rejected White Claw and clinks it.

“Cheers,” he says, sipping this one instead of chugging it. He sets it down and leans against the armrest so that he can face you. “How did you meet Jihoon, by the way? He seems like a pretty reserved dude.”

“Yeah, sorry if he was short with you, he isn’t half as mean as he pretends to be,” you say.

“We actually talked a lot.” He pauses, tilting his head as he thinks about it. “Well, a lot about working out. I think I could turn him into my gym buddy with enough pressure.”

“I would pay to see that,” you say. Jihoon tried to bring you to the gym exactly once, and you have regretted it ever since. The soreness haunts you, but you think Soonyoung might be one of the few people on the planet that could keep up with him with those arms.

“I didn’t know you were into that,” Soonyoung says with a giggle. You roll your eyes.

“You know for a fact that’s not what I meant,” you say, “and to answer your question, we lived in the same dorm freshman year. He was next door, and both our roommates were psychotic, so we ended up trading. We’ve been living together ever since because I’m the only one that can put up with his annoying ass. Also he cooks and keeps me alive during finals.”

“I can’t believe I was a dorm assignment away from living with you.” Soonyoung shakes his head and pretends to sigh. “Fate isn’t on my side.”

“Don’t you live in a frat house?”

“Semantics,” Soonyoung says. He pauses. “Semen-tics.” He starts to laugh and though the joke is far from funny, you find yourself giggling too.

“You’re drunk,” you say.

Soonyoung points at you. “I’m pretty sure you’re drunk too.”

You tilt your head from side to side, trying to think at first but the motion feels nice, toeing the line between dizzying and comfortable. Right, you were checking if you were drunk. You have your answer, but you don’t want to stop spinning just yet.

“Do you really want to be a lawyer?” Soonyoung asks. You freeze with your head on your right shoulder, frowning at him. “I mean, like, how do you know?”

“It makes good money,” you say. “Well, corporate law does. Everything going according to plan, I’ll be out of debt before I’m thirty, retiring at 65.”

“But how do you know that’s what you want?” Soonyoung asks. You wonder if he’s asking you or himself. You think about the first day you met him.

It was the first day of your sophomore year, 8 in the morning in the worst classroom in the Armhayer Building at the end of a dead end hallway with no windows. The business program had a required career building course and some cruel administrator decided to make the other available class clash with the other required business class for the year, so half the class was people you were stuck with for the full year. Despite its reputation, the business school at the university seemed to only accept idiots.

You settled for a long semester of biting back your eye rolls and yawning through class, choosing a seat in the front so that at least you won’t have to look at anyone else. And for fifteen minutes, you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Then Soonyoung walked in.

He was out of breath, telling the professor that he got lost several times and someone gave him the wrong directions. You didn’t really pay attention to him until he dropped into the seat next to you. Fully prepared to give him a side eye and judge him for the rest of the semester, Soonyoung flashed a smile at you and apologized for disrupting you. He was so obviously not your type, yet when his head dropped on your shoulder, you didn’t wake him up. Two classes later when the professor told the class that you would be in a semester-long partner project, you didn’t hesitate to say yes when Soonyoung asked you.

Soonyoung hadn’t ever taken the class seriously, going through the motions and doing the bare minimum for most of the assignments. You never paid any attention to it, but you realize that he never actually told you what he planned to do with his life, always asking you what you planned to do with your copious amounts of money. Now you wonder if it was because he really doesn’t know.

“I want stability,” you finally say. “This plan is stable. Safe, as long as everything goes according to plan. I guess it’s not as cool as dreaming about being an astronaut or whatever, but it’s what I want.”

“I think it’s cool. Knowing what you want to do.” Soonyoung says with little enthusiasm.

“You don’t have any idea?”

He shrugs. “I have to be smart to do the things I want to do.”

“You are smart.”

“You don’t have to pander to me, I’m not looking for your pity.”

“Soonyoung.” You wait for him to look you in the eyes. “You are smart. This isn’t pity. Sure it takes you a little longer to read things, and you have to work a little harder to answer some questions, but that doesn’t mean you’re not smart. You’re just as capable as me, more capable when it comes to emotional intelligence. Have you ever noticed that wherever you go, someone is always waving to you? I don’t think there’s a single person in this world that doesn’t like you. Don’t downplay how important that is.”

He chews on his lip and you know he doesn’t believe you. How many people have told him he’s dumb? You want to drag every single one of them here and make them apologize, make them realize how special the boy in front of you is. Eventually he shrugs. “I’ll just end up being an intern, and then I’ll be so charming they’ll promote me without realizing I don’t know what I’m doing and I’ll become a CEO that pays people to do the job for me.”

You smile and shake your head. “We can vacation together in the Bahamas.”

“Please, that’s where the semi-rich people go,” Soonyoung says, lifting his head from the back of the couch. “We’ll have our own islands and sail past each other.” This time when he smiles, the sparkle glints, just a little. His bleach blonde hair sticks in strange angles from rubbing against the couch, looking a little like a fuzzball. You reach a hand out and pat it down, except the hair is fried from being bleached so many times and almost breaks under your hand.

When you pull your hand down, Soonyoung is staring at you. Except staring isn’t the right word. He looks at you like no one else ever has, a thousand unsaid words behind his eyes, a language like no other that maybe only you can understand. Those dark eyes, so soft and warm, begging you to drown in them. He’s a siren, luring you in with a song of desire that only you can hear.

You don’t realize you’ve leaning closer until you fall forward, catching yourself on his chest. Soonyoung’s hand flies to your waist, moving so fast it must have been reflex.

“Sorry,” you mutter but you don’t get off him. Resisting his eyes from this close is impossible. Soonyoung blinks at you, frozen. It occurs to you that you’re almost kissing him. All you have to do is lean forward, press your lips against his. Would his lips be chapped? Would he kiss you back? Would he make fun of you for being a terrible kisser? You hold your breath, wondering if you are about to find out.

You jump at the bang of a door slamming shut. You push off Soonyoung’s chest, back to your side of the couch until your back slams against the armrest. The pain is almost enough to sober you up and you realize exactly what you were about to do. You can’t bear to look at Soonyoung staring at you so you look at Jihoon instead, who doesn’t seem to realize that he interrupted anything by walking into the kitchen, headphones blasting music so loud that you can hear it. He grabs one of the takeout containers from the fridge and finally notices you and Soonyoung staring at him.

“What?” He shouts over his headphones. You shake your head and he stares at you all the way back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to make you jump again.

“We should probably start the movie,” you say, turning to face forward, anywhere but Soonyoung. “I’ll get my laptop.” He doesn’t say anything but you can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you as you jump up. Ignoring the spinning in your head, you walk to your room. You lean against the door as soon as it shuts behind you, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

You wish you could blame the idiocy on the alcohol, but you aren’t drunk enough for that. Besides, regardless of the reason, it was a mistake, it would be a mistake, to kiss Soonyoung. No matter how badly you want to do it.

Your computer sits on your desk. The longer it takes for you to get back, the stranger it will be, so you grab it and return to the couch. Dizziness gives you an excuse to peer at the floor, perfectly valid reason to avoid Soonyoung’s eyes.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown?” He asks when you insert the DVD into your laptop.

You raise your eyebrows but still don’t have the courage to face him. “It’s that good?”

Soonyoung laughs easily, as if nothing happened. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

You peek at him from the corner of your eye. He faces the computer, sitting back against the couch. Other than his red tinted cheeks, you can’t tell he’s drunk at all. You have no idea what you’re in for, he said. He has no idea how right he is.

You hold Soonyoung by the shoulders, staring him down. Your eyes begin to water but you hold them open, determined not to lose. Soonyoung squints, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. You just have to hold out a little longer, but your eyes begin to ache and the air pierces into them.

“Damn!” Soonyoung cries, throwing himself back onto the couch and squeezing his eyes shut. You let go of his shoulders and resist the urge to rub your eyes, settling for blinking as fast as humanly possible. Your eyes burn but you smile anyways, wiping tears away with the back of your hand.

“How are you so good at that?” Soonyoung asks. He gives into the impulse, hands pressed against his eyes.

“I’m really not, I think you’re just bad at staring contests,” you say. “Now hurry up, you lost so you have to answer.”

He sighs as if he didn’t beg you to help him study. With only a day before his test, you’re not sure how much this is really helping, but at least he isn’t partying with the rest of his frat (who do a pre-finals bar crawl, apparently). Instead, Soonyoung is on your couch, again. You try not to think about the last time he was here. Not productive thoughts, especially not when Soonyoung is one day away from taking the most important test of his life.

“Is it B?”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“I hate when you say that.” He peers at the paper, eyes moving slowly as he rereads the line. “No, it’s C! Wait, no, B. No, A!”

“Pick an answer.”

He chews on his lip. You have to force yourself to keep your focus on his eyes. “B,” he finally says.

You’re tempted to drag it out and make him wait but he puts on the Soonyoung Sparkle so you go ahead and nod.

“I knew it! Trust your gut!”

“You’re quoting me now.” You pretend to wipe tears from the corner of your eyes. “You’ve grown up so quickly.”

If it were Jihoon, he’d roll his eyes but Soonyoung perks up, as if you’ve given him a real compliment. He pauses before asking his next question, eyes flickering to the papers separating you from him.

“You really think I’ll do well?” He asks softly.

You study him, the way his unnaturally blonde hair has been strategically gelled to stick up in all the right places, the way his plain white t-shirt hangs loose on his shoulders. You wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror because the way he sits now, waiting for an answer as if you’d actually say no, breaks your heart a little. He really has no idea how brilliant he is, in every sense of the word. You don’t know how to make him see it so you just take his hand and wait for him to look you in the eyes.

The second the glittering dark irises meet yours, you see the desperation. He tries to smile, to hide the fear but Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You fight the urge to brush your fingers against his cheek.

“Soonyoung.” You squeeze his hand. What you feel isn’t a passing crush, you’ve known that for a while now. Admitting it doesn’t give you the bravery to do anything except pull the shield of cowardice around your heart a little tighter. “I’d be an idiot if I said I didn’t.”

He holds your gaze a little longer, until it almost looks like he believes you. Then his eyes light up. “I have a surprise for you!”

He digs into his backpack, pulling out a blanket (not the one he used when it was still warm enough to sit outside in the grass), a plastic water bottle half-full of bright green liquid, three crumpled flyers for events on campus, and finally, a small rectangular item, carefully wrapped in paper towels.

“I was a little worried it would get damaged in my backpack,” he says. “I really, really tried to walk gently and didn’t bring it near any coffee.”

You choose not to point out the unnatural liquid in the plastic water bottle, instead appreciating his efforts to protect whatever your surprise is. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t try. He carefully pulls the paper towels off, revealing a navy blue leather bound book with gilded lettering. Not just any book.

“You got it back?” You cry. Soonyoung pulls the rest of the paper towels off to reveal the intricate design on the cover, the golden pages, with Pride and Prejudice inscribed on the spine. “My baby!”

You hover over the book, not wanting to ruin it with the dirt and oils from your hands but so desperately wanting to caress the beautiful book. It’s just as you remember it, down to the tiny dent on the front cover where you accidentally knocked it against a railing. You can’t wait to put it back on your bookshelf where there has been an empty space ever since Jun managed to snag it. You remember Soonyoung is there when you hear his laughter.

“You like it that much?”

“Of course,” you say. “It’s my baby.”

“It’s a book.” But he smiles and you know he’s just teasing. So you figure, why not?

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. His frat-bro instincts must take charge because he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, pulling you against his chest and squeezing you like he’s the one getting a gift.

“Thank you,” you say. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“This is my thank you,” he says. You can feel his voice rumbling in his chest, a strange sensation that sends butterflies tumbling around between your stomach and your heart. “It’s the least I could do for you.

The awkward position isn’t exactly comfortable, twisting your body to face him with your shoulder overtop of his forcing your face into his neck but you don’t want to let go. You give yourself five more thundering heartbeats before you let go, turning to study your book again so you have an excuse to avoid his eyes.

“How did you get it back?”

“Same way you lost it,” Soonyoung says. “I made a bet.”

“On what?”

Soonyoung shrugs, turning to look at the book that still sits in his lip. He gently places it into yours, using the paper towels to prevent smudging with his fingers.

You frown. “How? Jun is in another hemisphere.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of video calls and express shipping,” Soonyoung says. “By the way, I’m wearing your friends down. Pretty soon they’ll like me more than they like you.

“Oh really?” You raise your eyebrow. You ignore the vole gnawing at your gut whispering that he might just be right.

“I got Jihoon to go to the gym with me and I got him to admit I was friends with you before he was,” he says, holding a finger out. “Jun says that he wants to meet me the second he returns to the country.” A second finger goes up. “Who else can I add to the list?”

He’s only joking. He doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but your skin wants to crawl inside out. The truth is, they are pretty much your only friends. Jihoon, Jun, and Soonyoung, the latter two having wormed their way into your life. My only friends.

“You’ve got to start going on the offensive,” Soonyoung says. He avoids your eyes and you know he didn’t miss your discomfort. Great, now he pities you. “I’m serious, Seokmin and Joshua have been asking about you, and Seungcheol keeps complaining that he hasn’t met you yet.”

You snort. “They’re frat bros, they just want more people to party with.”

“I’m a frat bro,” he says.

“Yeah, but…” But what? He’s Soonyoung? Once again, you wonder why he is so different to you–why the epitome of frat boy chaos doesn’t repulse you like he should. But he isn’t some one-dimensional steroid-infused party boy, not the type to bully the freshman trying to join just because he can. He gets drunk after two shots and makes his pledges follow him for 24 hours a day as “hazing,” only to take them for a dinner he can’t afford and skips his own classes so they don’t miss theirs.

He’s not a typical frat boy. But Soonyoung loves his frat, and you can’t find a way to tell him this without making it sound like you are looking down on the rest of the members.

So you just say, “Isn’t this supposed to be a study session?”

Soonyoung sighs, pulling the book in front of him and staring at the words. Even though you can see that he isn’t reading, he doesn’t say anything else.

“Your test is tomorrow,” you say.

“Yeah, I know.” He doesn’t pick up the pencil.

You’ve never struggled to read Soonyoung. He can’t hide when he’s upset, shoulders slumping, a little pout forming over his lips. He doesn’t fully frown but his eyebrows comes together, just a bit. And it’s usually easy to figure out what’s wrong–he’s tired, or wants to be at a party instead of studying. But now? He was fine just a moment ago, even while he was cramming earlier.

“Is something wrong?” You don’t know why you’re so scared of the answer.

“I just thought that… nNever mind.” He sighs again. “You’re right, this is a study session. I should be studying.” He doesn’t look at you and you can’t help but feel like you messed up. But Soonyoung eventually picks up his pencil and asks you to check his answers and the feeling slowly fades.

Will the rest of your feelings fade when you aren’t with him like this anymore? When he takes his test and has no reason to see you every day? Will your heart still beat at the mention of his name? Will you spend the rest of your life thinking about all the almosts with him? Or will it fade until Soonyoung is just a boy that you helped because of a silly bet?

Even as you consider it, you know the answer. He isn’t just a boy, and he never will be. Maybe that’s what really scares you.

You glare at Soonyoung. “Do you know what time it is?”

Jihoon glances at his watch. “7:43.”

Soonyoung grins beside him, arm over his shoulder. Both boys stand in your bedroom doorway looking far too composed for this ungodly hour.

“It’s a Saturday.” Just two minutes ago you were in blissful sleep. Okay, maybe not blissful, since you stayed up until three in the morning because you couldn’t fall asleep, and you were having a weird dream where you were looking for something and ended up by the stadium staring at a giant duck statue instead of the raven. But the point is you were asleep until two fists banged on your door so loud you thought it was going to fall apart.

You can’t even be that mad at Soonyoung, not when he smiles like that. So you glare at Jihoon.

“Honestly, I figured you would be up,” he says. “You were the one that said you didn’t think you were going to get any sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung says. “I really just wanted to help distract you for the last hour.” Right. The last hour until your entire future would be determined by a triple digit number. No biggie.

“Let me get dressed,” you say. They step back before you have the chance to slam the door in their face. You’d like to be able to dress up nicely, but you’re already shivering, so you grab your comfiest sweatpants and the sweatshirt Soonyoung lent you (that still smells like his cologne). You dart into the bathroom and meet the two boys in the doorway of the apartment, pulling on your sneakers.

You pull the hood over your messy hair and tighten the strings. Soonyoung grins at you and taps your nose.

“Ready to go?”

“How did you get out of bed this early?”

“Oh, I never got in,” he says. “Long story, but we gotta go, they won’t wait much longer.”

“They?” You ask but Soonyoung doesn’t hear you. He turns to Jihoon, waving.

“See you tomorrow!” He says, throwing an arm over your shoulders to pull you out the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes!”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” But he looks at you and smiles. “It’ll be fine.” Before you can thank him, he shuts the door.

Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your side, pulling you to the elevators and squeezing you against him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I should be asleep.”

Soonyoung smiles, as if your grumpiness is funny. You decide it’s moot since there’s no way you could fall asleep now that you are an hour and seven minutes away from finding out the results of your future.

“I figured I’d save you from wallowing in worry,” Soonyoung says. “We can do fun things while we wait. I planned out the whole morning, we have options! There’s going to the gym, or for a job around campus, breaking into the science lab and petting the rabbits, going to Barb’s for breakfast–”

“Breakfast,” you say. You aren’t a huge fan of getting in trouble with the college when you have just over a semester before graduation and though you aren’t sure if your stomach will accept food, working out is a guarantee for throwing up. Besides, a hot cup of coffee could clear a little of the fog in your brain.

“Barb’s it is,” Soonyoung says, practically bouncing on his toes. He really seems to only have two settings, and today he’s at 120%.

He lets go of your side when the elevator opens and you step to the ground floor of your apartment. You rub your arms and pretend like the chill is from the weather even though the lobby is still warm. He holds the door for you pretending to be a doorman, bowing and gesturing with his arm for you to pass. You turn so that he doesn’t see that the silly gesture made you smile.

Parked outside is a white jeep that looks larger than normal, and is apparently the asshole that’s been blasting their music for the past ten minutes. You aren’t surprised in the slightest when Soonyoung strides up to the car.

“I don’t have a car,” he says, belatedly apologetic. The two men in the front seat don’t seem to mind, though you suspect they have been up all night along with Soonyoung as soon as the door opens and you hear their voices singing off-tune over the blasting music.

“Boy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away,” The driver cries, using a water bottle as a mic. You recognize Seungcheol from Soonyoung’s descriptions, half from his voice and half from the back of his head. The person riding shotgun is also familiar, a mess of dark hair that must be Joshua. He doesn’t look much different in daylight, sunglasses resting on his forehead. Thankfully they turn the music down a little and stop singing when you get it.

Seungcheol grins at you through the mirror. “So I finally get to meet the infamous YN. You know, you still haven’t shown up to any parties.”

“I’ve been busy,” you say, glancing at Soonyoung who focuses a little too much on his seatbelt.

“Hi, YN,” the passenger up front says, waving at you through the rearview mirror.

“Joshua,” you say. “Get into life and death scenarios with Soonyoung recently?”

“Well, Soonyoung jumped out of a car window.” He pauses. “It wasn’t moving,” he adds when Seungcheol jerks his head towards him. “Though I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“I have done it before,” Soonyoung says solemnly. It takes him a moment to realize everyone is staring at him. “It was a dare.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Seungcheol grumbles, turning back around and putting the car into drive. Though you were thinking something along the same lines, the way Soonyoung deflates a little makes you wish Seungcheol hadn’t said anything.

The rest of the drive is quiet–at least in terms of conversation. Seungcheol cranks his stereo up to the loudest setting and blasts the Spice Girls until Joshua starts singing along. Apparently car karaoke for “Wannabe” is sacrilegious to the frat leader.

You can hear yourself think again when the car pulls into the parking lot and he finally cuts the engine. A few cars line the parking lot of the 24 hour diner that sits on the outskirts of campus. The giant neon red Barb’s that hangs over the entrance flickers in the cloudy morning light teeters the line between quaint and electrical fire waiting to happen.

The workers, a host and three waitresses, wave at the boys, and do a double take at you. You swear you hear the host whisper “Is that really them?” to Joshua as he leads the group to a table in the corner but Soonyoung distracts you with the menu.

“I had this thing memorized since freshman year, I can’t believe you’ve never been here. The pancakes are my favorite for hangover cures, not that I’m hungover by the way, I’m actually running on my third energy drink.” He taps the picture, a golden stack of perfectly fluffy pancakes that can only be photoshop.

“Aren’t energy drinks bad for your heart?”

Soonyoung shrugs. “Joshua invented this to get through finals, you mix Red Bull, Bang, and Coke and it keeps you up for three days straight. Great for when you’re nervous because you physically have to do something about it.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say. “Wait, why are you nervous?”

“Your test results come out today,” he says too quickly.

You consider debating with him but a waitress approaches, wearing a fifties frock and a high ponytail with a ribbon that probably looked like a bow at the start of her shift but has drooped down and now just looks sad. Her face is a mask of emotions, not a smile, not a frown, just emptiness, a contrast to the button clipped to her collar making her “Happy.”

“The usual?” She asks, pausing at you. She tilts her head and you can see the mask twisting at the edges, a frown almost forming on her brow. She glances at Soonyoung. “Is this who I think it is?”

“Who do you think it is?” Soonyoung asks at the same time that Joshua and Seungcheol say, “Yes.”

The corner of Happy’s lips turn into a tiny smile that seems to be her equivalent of a grin. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Okay, haha, very funny,” Soonyoung says. “Stop harassing my friend. We’ll order when we have a chance to look at the menu.”

Happy raises her eyebrow just slightly at the word “friend,” but closes her notepad. She returns to a pastel pink bar where you can clearly see her whispering and gesturing to you.

“Why do so many people know me?” You mutter, shrinking into the corner of the booth.

“The thing about Drunk Soonyoung is that he doesn’t really shut up,” Seungcheol says.

“That’s being gentle,” Joshua says. “One time he spent four hours describing Finding Nemo. That’s longer than the actual movie.”

“It’s a good movie,” Soonyoung says.

“The point is,” Seungcheol says, glaring at Joshua, “he tends to talk when he’s drunk. Usually about good things, things that he… Well, things that he likes.”

You turn your head to look at Soonyoung, who is once again pretending to study the menu. “You like studying for the LSAT that much?”

Joshua unsuccessfully tries to hide his laugh with a snort while Seungcheol gains slightly more success with a fake cough. Soonyoung doesn’t react at all, staring at the painted flowers on the menu. Eventually, he shrugs. “I’m dedicated to the bet.” He points at a stack of pancakes covered in bananas and chocolate. “That’s what I usually get.”

“Isn’t against all rules of gym core and muscle building to eat decadent things?”

“Did you just call working out ‘gym core?’” Seungcheol asks.

“Am I wrong?”

“Nope!” Soonyoung says brightly. “And cheat days are a thing, so do you want to split it or not?”

“You know I can’t say no to bananas and chocolate.”

“And pancakes!” He waves down the waitress and points to the stack.

“Ah, the new Soonyoung,” she says. “You guys getting your actual usual?”

Joshua and Seungcheol nod and she doesn’t bother to write any of it down. Then again she already knows their orders. Except she called Soonyoung’s “new.” Before you can ask what she meant, a shout makes you jump. You turn around to see a stream of boys entering, enough of whom you recognize that you realize at least half the frat has rolled into the diner. The waitresses roll their eyes and groan but somehow they don’t look all that upset.

“Mr. President!” The tallest boy, Johnny according to Soonyoung’s Instagram tags, holds a fist over his heart and pounds it a couple times. Seungcheol nods and greets each of the boys, most of whom seem to still be in various stages of inebriation. Almost all of them glance at you and whisper to each other, and you get the feeling they know exactly who you are.

Just what has Soonyoung said about you?

“How are we doing on time?” One of them calls out.

“46 minutes,” Joshua says. You frown. 46 minutes… until 9? Do they all know about today?

You tap Soonyoung on the arm. “What’s going on?”

“You see, the thing is,” he says, “apparently I was nervous?” He tries to fake a laugh but it sounds strained. “I don’t really know but the guys made me tell them about today and then I didn’t really know what was happening but I guess they followed us here? Thought you might like moral support, or something.”

You peek out at the booths crowded with frat bros and cringe back into your seat when they grin at you. “They’re all looking at me.”

“Well, I guess I do talk about you a lot,” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. He won’t meet your eyes.

Ask him why. You want to be brave. You want to be right about the answer you think he’ll give you. You chew the inside of your cheek.

“Because of the bet?”

Soonyoung doesn’t answer for a moment. “I guess.”

Coward.

“Why are we whispering?” Joshua asks, leaning across Soonyoung towards you. “Are we gossiping?”

Soonyoung pushes him off. “Butt out.”

“Just telling Soonyoung that I’ve never had an army of drunk guys rooting for me before,” you say.

“Could have had it sooner if you came to a party,” Seungcheol says.

“You really want me at a party that bad? We just met.”

Seungcheol glances at Soonyoung, who shakes his head. He sighs. “If only I could tell you why you need to come.”

You frown between the three men. “I don’t like when people talk in circles over me.”

“Just promise you’ll come to the Christmas party. It’ll all make sense then,” Seungcheol says. You’ve heard a lot about Seungcheol from Soonyoung, and the more you listen to him, the more you believe it. He’s a strange man.

“I’ll think about making an appearance.”

“Really?” Soonyoung whips around to face you and you know that you have to come now. You haven’t seen him this excited since you let him skip studying to party. No, he’s even more excited now. “You’ll come?”

You can’t stand his gaze so you study the placemats. “Maybe.”

He grabs your hand until you meet his eyes. “Please?”

The Soonyoung Sparkle. You never win against it. “Fine.”

“Get a room,” Joshua says behind a very fake cough. You pull your hand back into your lap and pretend like you aren’t embarrassed.

“How long now?” You shout out.

“40 minutes,” someone answers. You groan and lean back into the sofa. Studying was hard enough but waiting makes you want to pull out each individual hair on your head. You stare at the ceiling, trying to decide if the stain looks more like a horse or a flower.

“Look at this.” Soonyoung passes his phone in front of you, forcing you to look down. His Instagram is open to a picture of a kitten looking drunk, face covered in milk. Such and obvious attempt to distract you but you smile anyway.

“Sweet,” you say and even you aren’t sure if you mean the cat or Soonyoung. He shows you cat pictures until the food finally arrives (33 minutes to go). You have to wait another five minutes because Soonyoung insists on having a photoshoot, despite your protests that you look like you just woke up (he raises his eyebrows at that). You stop fighting when Joshua makes him cut a piece of the pancake and feed it to you. Chocolate nearly drops in your lap but Soonyoung shoots his hand out at the last second and catches it.

“Okay, can we please just eat,” you say. Joshua and Seungcheol shrug and pretend like they weren’t instigating the pictures and telling you and Soonyoung how to pose.

Soonyoung was right about the bananas and chocolate. Rich and decadent, they’re delicious. When he cuts you a slice and pushes it toward you, you can even forget the countdown to the end of the world. Or, more accurately, the end of the world doesn’t mean anything to you when Soonyoung smiles at you like that.

You eat slowly enough to bring you to the ten minute mark. Fear mixes with the dessert for breakfast in your stomach, twisting it until it threatens to jump out of your throat. Soonyoung takes your hand under the table and holds it. You don’t run away this time.

He holds you to the planet again, keeps you from floating away and disappearing before you can reach the stars. It’s Soonyoung that keeps your heart beating. Always Soonyoung.

Seungcheol and Joshua chat, Soonyoung piping in a few times, but their words don’t reach you. Stuck somewhere between crushed beneath the weight of the world and floating away, you focus on the clock, watching the seconds tick closer and closer.

“Last minute!” Someone behind you finally shouts. Soonyoung squeezes your hand. You pull up the website on your phone and put in your login information and hover over the SUBMIT. At thirty seconds, they start shouting it out.

“Ten!”

“Nine!”

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

“Six!”

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

Half the guys start cheering already, probably forgetting the count down doesn’t mean as much as the results themselves. You hit SUBMIT and watch the little wheel spin around and around and around until it finally refreshes. The number stares back at you, impossible to read right in front of you.

169.

“Congratulations!” Soonyoung shouts, throwing his arms around you and squeezing while you try to comprehend what that means. 169. The number should be all you can think about but Soonyoung holds you, shouting how proud he is, how he always believed in you.

“169!” Seungcheol shouts, miles away from your bubble. You can hear the guys break out into cheers, hear them chanting the number (which turns into 69) but it’s just you and Soonyoung. The world didn’t end and Soonyoung is still by your side.

The rest of the morning is a blur. Every member of the frat insists on congratulating you, which mostly means a lot of hugs, though one of the more drunk guys tried to spin you around on his shoulder. You laugh when you’d usually frown and find your way back to Soonyoung’s side like a magnet.

Maybe it’s the euphoria that gives you courage.

“Hey Soonyoung?”

“Hm?”

You say it before you can think too much. “Maybe just the two of us next time?”

He grins before you can finish speaking. “I’d love that.”

You have the courtesy to let Soonyoung sleep in as much as he wants. You wait for him at Barb’s, trying to figure out how to call this a date.

You’ve seen him a couple times since you got your score back, but you needed to study for finals and he had to make up for missing a lot of frat activities. You’ve only seen him in passing, nothing to fill the Soonyoung shaped hole in your heart. But today that will change. You will celebrate together and you will tell him how you feel. And then… you have no idea.

It’s just Soonyoung there’s nothing to be nervous about. Too bad your body doesn’t agree with you. Every nerve stands at attention, jumping at the bell that rings when the door opens. You don’t worry when Soonyoung doesn’t get to Barb’s by 8:30 like he said he would. Even at 8:45, you aren’t worried.

It’s only at 8:55 that you really start to wonder where he is. Maybe you should have picked him up. Knowing him, there’s a 50% chance he’s lying in a ditch after a failed attempt to recreate an impossible stunt from Fast and Furious. At 9, you call him. Between each silence in the ring, you wait for his voice but it never comes. He uses the automated voicemail, so you don’t even get his voice telling you to leave a message.

The anxiety turns to fear while you wait. The door rings and you see a fluff of bleach blonde hair and jump up. But though you recognize the face, it isn’t Soonyoung.

Chan, one of the younger members of the frat, with Mingyu and a guy whose name you forgot. They all have the same look in their eyes when they see you, far too much like pity.

“You’re YN, right?” Mingyu asks. “You’re supposed to meet Soonyoung?” The two guys with him, easily identifiable as frat members between their unkempt hair and sweatshirts plastered with Greek letters, stop mid conversation and glance at each other.

“Is he okay?” You ask, still standing in the awkward position in the booth.

“He’s got his score back,” Mingyu says.

“We were supposed to–”

“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu says. “It was a 167. You should really talk to him yourself.” He pauses, glancing at his frat brothers but they shrug. “He’s at the house. See if you can talk some sense into him.”

You’re too afraid to ask any other questions so you just watch Mingyu and the other two walk past, and pretend that they aren’t whispering and stealing glances at you.

Going to a frat house was never on your bucket list but your feet travel without guidance. You find yourself in front of a rather nondescript house. No bodies hang out from windows, no one is passed out in the yard. Then again it’s a weekday.

You pause at the door, wondering if you should knock. You tap your hand on the door and it slides open, the latch bolt pushed completely in. You step inside tentatively, peeking around but it’s quiet. You turn the corner to find an open room and Soonyoung sitting on a couch, glass with a bright liquid in his hand. He doesn’t even look at you.

“Are you seriously drunk right now?”

Soonyoung just shrugs, taking another sip from the glass. Even from here you can smell that it’s more tequila than fruit punch.

You shake your head, crossing the room sitting beside him even though he didn’t invite you to sit down. He was considerably cuter the last time you saw him drunk. You’ve gotten used to the power of Soonyoung’s facial expressions, his smiles, his frowns, the way his eyes glaze over when he’s bored, the way they gleam when he daydreams; they’re as precious to you as Soonyoung himself. But his face is a clean slate now, not a smile, not a frown, just a blank stare.

“You know a 167 is still insanely good, right?”

He shakes his head.

“Soonyoung.” He doesn’t look at you, so you grab his drink. Any other day and you would have failed miserably but his alcohol-impaired senses make him slow enough for you to get a hand on the half-empty glass. He glares at you but you don’t yield, tightening your grip and pulling the bottle even harder.

“Let go,” you growl. “Talk to me like a normal human.”

He shakes his head, pulling on the glass so you yank back, except you overestimate how weak he is like this, and the glass flies out of his hand, the contents spilling all over you. The red liquid sinks into your blue sweater, soaking you through all three layers.

“What the hell?” Soonyoung says.

“That gets your fucking attention? Spilling your drink?” You say. “You know, I really thought you were different.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re acting like a child. So you didn’t win the bet. Who fucking cares? Do you know how hard it is to get higher than a 160? Soonyoung, you are smart, and you worked so hard for this. You could go to law school with that score. You could graduate above a 2.3 if you stopped acting like a stereotypical fuck bro and actually studied.

“You know, you could actually be something if you wanted. You don’t have to get a degree and work at a corporate job that sucks your soul away until the Soonyoung that actually matters is gone. I know it’s easier this way, but if you actually tried to dream, you could do something. I don’t get it, honestly. Because everyone thinks you’re an idiot you act like one? Is that what it is?”

“You don’t have to pretend like you don’t think the same thing.”

You snort. “I don’t, but clearly you won’t believe me. You think that if you have to work for something then it’s not worth it when you could be so much more.”

“Why do you even care?” Soonyoung asks, looking you in the eyes for the first time. For a moment, you think you might actually be wrong, because all you see in his eyes is pain. A physical force that constricts your heart and makes you weak in the knees, Soonyoung looks at you like he’s been fighting a war you never knew about, like he’s been suffering in silence for a lifetime. He looks at you like you’ve broken his heart.

Why do I care? You could scoff. Because I’ve been in love with you ever since you fell asleep on my shoulder. I’ve been fighting this stupid crush for so long that I don’t know who I am without it. I don’t know who I am without you. I care because every day the world proves that we aren’t worthy of this planet, that love can’t solve all problems yet you make me question it all. You don’t just bring light into my life, you make it glitter. And I can’t tell you any of this.

“I don’t know.” The lie tastes bitter but it’s still sweeter than rejection.

“Then why are you here?” Soonyoung looks away. Without his eyes pinning you down, you can breathe again, but every inhale still drags against your heart. You stand up. Afterall, you don’t have an answer for him.

“I take it back. You are an idiot,” you mutter over his head as you walk past him. You make it to the corner of the street before the tears finally spill over your cheeks, and all the way back to your room before you can’t breathe.

Without the distraction of finals, you are left with your own thoughts, your words and Soonyoung’s floating around your head. You have always been something of a hermit but you’ve become J.D. Salinger himself, only leaving your room to sneak into the kitchen and scrounge for scraps of junk food that Jihoon hasn’t thrown away yet. You watch so much reality TV that you start to dream about it.

Every episode the people, a family living on a homestead that just happens to dress in brand name clothes and drive a Benz, fight and cry and make up. You yell at the mother when she forces her daughter to change because she didn’t think polka dots are appropriate and cry along with the daughter when she starts to sniffle in her confessional, wondering if her mother would ever approve of her choices, whether it was clothes or the people she wants to date.

You bet your confessional would be a hit if it was ever filmed. Tears run down your cheeks as you practice it in the mirror, choking out an apology for calling him an idiot and telling the whole world what you aren’t brave enough to tell him.

Jun calls but you can’t answer. He leaves three voicemails: an apology, a goofy one telling you he’ll be back soon, and a final one, yelling at you to pick up or at least let him know you’re alive. You text him an apology you don’t know if you mean. He says thank you anyway and doesn’t call again.

You have no plans to change your schedule (wake up, steal food, cry, sleep) but on the third day you run out of goldfish and can’t find anything in the kitchen that doesn’t make you nauseous. To make matters worse, despite the fact that it’s seven in the morning (the earliest you’ve woken up since the Fight), Jihoon catches you.

You’ve successfully avoided him and his inevitable lecture, slamming your door shut and ignoring his knocks but he catches you off guard today. He sneaks in from his morning workout wearing a black t-shirt and slides that he somehow manages to walk stealthily in, scaring you when you close the fridge and find him standing where the door was.

“Are you done hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” you mutter.

He folds his arms.

“Fine,” you say. “I’m not done hiding.”

“Well too fucking bad,” Jihoon says. You try to step past him but he holds his arm out. You’ll never beat him in a physical fight so you step back, shaking your head.

“Have it your way. Go ahead.” You wave your hand. “Get it all out. Yell at me or lecture me or whatever, I don’t care. You’re going to tell me that I’m an idiot? That I shouldn’t be so afraid of rejection, that I’m blind to how he feels?

“Or are you going to tell me that I shouldn’t trust someone like him? That I shouldn’t be crying over a goddamn frat boy, I’m better than this, I’m better than him.” You choke back a sob, not sure what words are coming out anymore. You wipe at the tears in your eyes and are so focused on trying not to cry that you don’t notice Jihoon walking away. You do see him come back, blurry shape coming into focus as you blink away the tears. He holds something in his hand, a navy blue square. A throw pillow from the couch?

He shifts it in his hand until he holds the corner with the zipper, swinging it a couple times back and forth. Then he yanks his arm back and arcs the pillow in a wide loop, landing directly on your head.

“Ow!” You cry but Jihoon just swings again, hitting your arm this time. He hits you so hard it knocks you off balance, sending you to the floor. Jihoon doesn’t hesitate, swinging the pillow into you again and again, every inch of you.

“You. Are. An. Idiot.” He grunts out each word with a blow. “You really think you’re better than him?”

He finally pauses, not even breathing heavily. You shake your head to answer him. “Of course not.”

“Good,” he says. Then he hits you again and again and again.

“Ow, Jihoon, what the hell?” You bury your head in your knees and hold your arms over you, trying in vain to protect yourself.

“I’m not your babysitter,” he says. “I’m not your father, or your brother, or any of that shit. I’m your best friend and you’re being an idiot and I’m not going to stop hitting you until you get some sense knocked into you.” He freezes, as if realizing exactly what he said. “Wait, no–that’s not what I mean, shit, sorry, but–”

You peek out from your arms and find Jihoon opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out what to say. He looks like a fish out of water, and it occurs to you he is a fish out of water. He’s never had to comfort you before, probably never had to comfort anyone. No wonder he’s so bad at it.

You wouldn’t laugh at him and borderline abuse, but your emotions are beyond fried, and he just looks so funny standing over you with a pillow raised, still sputtering half apologies. You try to stop the laugh before it comes out but it turns into a snort and then you can’t stop laughing, tears that you tried to push back falling freely. You lay back on the floor and laugh until your sides hurt, only vaguely aware of Jihoon laughing above you. Eventually he joins you on the floor.

“You know what I meant,” he says. The pillow rests on the floor between his legs, all the fluff on the far end from the one-sided pillow fight.

“I knew what you meant without the pillow.”

“Too bad,” Jihoon says. “I’m tired of listening to the theme song of that god awful show. You could at least watch something like–”

“I swear if you bring up an anime, you’ll feel exactly how hard that pillow can hit.”

Jihoon laughs, patting it a couple times. “I saw him the other day. He looked tired.” He pauses but you don’t dare speak. “We didn’t speak. I don’t even think he saw me. But it doesn’t matter because I’m not the one he needs to talk to.”

“I know,” you say.

“Then why are you still on the floor?”

Because you’re scared. Because it would be easier to just give up now, for once to ignore putting in the hard work and just let it pass. But just because it’s the easy option doesn’t mean it’s the right option. At the very least you need to apologize to him.

“What if he hates me?”

Jihoon snorts. “Then he’ll get some pillow violence too.” He pauses. “He doesn’t, though.”

“It doesn’t mean that it will turn out okay.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Jihoon says. “But no matter what happens, you’ll deal with it. And even if it absolutely sucks in the moment, eventually it will be over, and it sure as hell will be better than that stupid fucking show.”

You nod, setting your chin on your knees. Your stomach turns in anticipation for what you will have to do, but he’s right. It’s time to stop running. Tonight is the Christmas party, and you were never formally uninvited. Somehow you doubt Seungcheol will throw you out. It’s time to get off the floor and get ready.

“Have you ever thought of being a life coach?”

“Hell no.”

What am I doing here? You fake a smile at Seungcheol and swallow the shot as fast as you can, grimacing as the vodka burns everything from the inside of your mouth to the depths of your stomach. You should have just stuck to your mixed drink only policy but Soonyoung always has you breaking your rules. Even when he isn’t with you.

Seungcheol disappears as soon as you take the drink, and you don't see anyone else you are comfortable enough to chat with, though that list is quite short. You do a turn of the house, which looks marginally better than the last time you saw it ,the benefit of bad lighting. It’s already crowded with more people than you’ve ever seen on campus. You make your way through each room on the lower floor, finding more than a couple bleach blondes. None are who you’re looking for. You stop in the living room, where you saw him last.

“He isn’t here.” You turn at the voice. An unfamiliar boy stands next to you, holding a half-empty Smirnoff Ice. “He went to visit family or something.” He pauses, looking you up and down. “At least that’s what he said.”

You nod. You find it doesn’t surprise you that he seems to know who you are. You suppose you’ve grown used to it, just one of the side-effects of being close with Soonyoung. Though it’s still strange, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable anymore. Or it wouldn’t, if you didn’t think this stranger is implying that it’s your fault Soonyoung isn’t at the ‘Party of the Year.’

You can’t stand his gaze so you make your way back towards the drinks, grabbing the first bottle you could find and chugging half of the lukewarm drink. It tastes like a fruit you can’t recognize and carbonation and the more you drink the harder it is to swallow but you force it down.

You came to apologize. He isn’t here, so why do you stay? Because you promised him? Do you really miss him that much? That you would come here and suffer through all this chaos, just for the memory of him? It doesn’t make any sense but you think that might be a side effect of the alcohol. You get another drink just in case you’re still sober.

Your head pounds, the aching feeling of the stage between drunk and sober. Normally you’d like to be sound asleep by now, or at least in the comfort of your home, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. It’s hot and sweaty, the music is way too loud, and you can’t find water anywhere, but you stay anyway, because you’re an idiot that fell in love.

You curl up on the couch, opposite of a couple making out as if the room isn’t full of people, waiting for just a glimpse of him that will never appear. Even drunk, you think it’s pitiful, but you can’t stop.

You didn’t think you could fall asleep in all the noise but you open your eyes when you feel the world tilt sideways. You’re vaguely aware of the arms underneath your legs and back, cradling you against someone’s chest. No, not just someone.

Because you aren’t enough of an idiot, you can tell it’s him, his sweet scent, maybe even just his arms. Soonyoung carries you out of the living room and up the stairs, the blaring music fading only slightly.

“I thought you weren’t here,” you mumble.

Soonyoung frowns down at you. “You okay?”

You shake your head, suddenly realizing there are tears in your eyes. No, I’m not okay, I love you, you want to say. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to hug you while still carrying you.

With your head resting against his chest, you can fully appreciate his beauty. His hair is black, which suits him even though he looks nothing like your Soonyoung anymore. You reach up and trace the lines of his face that are unchanging, the sharp straight line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his nose, his soft eyebrows. You drop your hand when you realize he’s staring at you, belatedly realizing you never got to his lips. You can only imagine how soft they’d be, soft like Soonyoung himself.

“You’re crying,” Soonyoung says softly. You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or not. He pauses in front of a door, struggling to open it without dropping you. Finally the door swings open and he sets you down on a bed, taking a deep breath and sitting beside you.

He brushes the tears from your eyes, as Soonyoung as ever. Sweet as ever. Sweet and Soonyoung. They should be the same word. You make a mental note to email Merriam-Webster’s dictionary and make the suggestion.

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, just watching you with those perfect eyes. His hand rests on your face even though the tears are long gone, thumb tracing shapes on your cheek.

“You swore you’d do anything for me,” you say.

“Anything,” Soonyoung repeats.

You turn to the walls, knocking his hand off your cheek, not daring to look him in the eyes. Even drunk, you are a coward. He’s put up pictures on his wall, a couple Polaroids but mostly printed pictures, with the frat, some childhood pictures, and one that you recognize. The picture of the two of you at the beach that you thought you didn’t send, where you are looking at him with all the love in your heart. You trace his smile, blinding even in paper form.

“Could you maybe try loving me back then?” You mumble. Your eyes feel heavy between the alcohol and the tears and you’ve said what you needed to say, so you let them take over, closing your eyes and letting the blasting music from downstairs drown out any thoughts. And because it’s so loud and you’ve already drifted off to sleep, there’s no way you could hear his answer.

“I already do.”

The first thing you do when you wake up is throw up. You make it out of the bed but not to the bathroom, mostly because you don’t actually know where it is. You grab the nearest bucket-shaped item, which happens to be a mostly empty trash can. You lean away as soon as you’re done, breathing through your mouth and looking away from the mess. Belatedly, you realize someone is patting your back, brushing hair out of your face.

“Better?” Soonyoung asks. His knees rests against your lower back, one hand resting on your back, the other caressing your face. Thank god you already threw up because looking at him makes your stomach twist again and if there was anything in you, it would come up again. If you could throw up your heart, you would. As it is, the organ is trying to climb its way up your throat, whether it’s guilt or heartbreak you don’t know.

You nod in answer to his question, letting him help you up. Your head pounds and though you know you won’t throw up again, your stomach flips. Right, your policy of mixed drinks is definitely reinstated after this.

“Sorry I threw up in your trash can,” you say.

“Believe me, that is not the worst that trash can has seen,” Soonyoung says. “Wait, that sounds bad, I didn’t mean it in a weird way, I just mean–” He stops himself, shaking his head. “It’s a frat house.”

“It’s your room,” you say softly. With sober (albeit heavily hungover) eyes, you take in the room again. It’s tiny, one bed pushed against a wall with a desk set right next to it. Unsurprisingly, it’s stacked with protein powder and a pile of frat flyers, laptop balancing off the edge, not a paper in sight. Except for the one next to his bed, the walls are bare, an ugly shade of beige except for a circle filled with white plaster that looks suspiciously like the reformed crime scene of a fist going through drywall. It must be from whoever owned the room before Soonyoung.

The wall next to his bed is covered in pictures. You remember being amazed by them last night. Your eyes zero in on the picture of the two of you, right next to the pillow that’s still dented from your head.

“Did I steal your bed?” You frown except the movement hurts your head.

“I slept in Johnny’s room since he’s decided to disappear off the face of the planet instead of accepting the fact that he graduates next semester,” Soonyoung says. “I actually just came in here for some clothes, which reminds me.” He rummages through a drawer, pulling out a wrinkled t-shirt and handing it to you. “If you want a change.”

You glance down and feel like throwing up all over again. Your favorite shirt is covered in stains, alcohol, vomit, and something you definitely don’t want to name. If you weren’t feeling so terrible already, you’d cry that Soonyoung is seeing you like this.

“I’ll get you a toothbrush, too,” he mutters, disappearing and leaving you to scramble to switch shirts. The white dri-fit is meant to be a workout shirt, though it’s clear that it would be oversize on Soonyoung. Either way, the soft fabric is gentle on your skin, much better than the jeans you slept in. Too bad you’re stuck in them until you get back to your apartment.

You could run away right now. Soonyoung probably wouldn’t be surprised. But he’s being nice to you, so much nicer than you deserve. Sweet and Soonyoung. But you came here to apologize, and though last night got derailed, you can’t keep running from it. Besides, it’s not like the morning can get much worse.

So when Soonyoung comes back proudly brandishing an unopened toothbrush that he may or may not have stolen from Seungcheol’s bathroom, you accept it gratefully. You stare yourself down in the bathroom, fighting nausea and an impending migraine because you have a mission to achieve, a real mission unlike last night. It’s still a haze, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget how gently Soonyoung cradled you against his chest, the brush of his fingers on your cheek. If he didn’t show up this morning, you’d think it was a dream.

Soonyoung’s door is open when you finish but he isn’t in his room. You grab your bag from the floor and venture down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. There’s a couple people passed out in the living room, and one person snoring softly in the kitchen, head folded in his arms in a position that must be incredibly painful for his neck. But it’s where you find Soonyoung, digging through the fridge and finally pulling out a water bottle. He hands it to you, along with a bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” you sigh, not even bothering to check the label for the brand. You take a couple and chug half the bottle, gaslighting yourself into believing that it will instantly revive you (it doesn’t work and your head still pounds).

“Are you hungry?” Soonyoung asks. He opens the fridge again, this time wide enough to show the shelves that are filled with beer, vodka, and White Claws. There’s a pizza box and some eggs, but not much else.

“How are any of you alive?” You ask softly, glancing at the snoring person on the counter.

“Yuta can sleep through an apocalypse, don’t worry about him,” Soonyoung says, waving his hand. He closes the fridge, leaning against it. “And most of us keep our actual food in mini-fridges. I just cleared mine out for break, so I don’t have anything in it.” He doesn’t say anything else about vanishing.

“I’m pretty sure that pizza has been in there since the start of the semester and I’ve never seen eggs in here before though, so I don’t think you should risk any of this,” Soonyoung says. “McDonald’s fries are a far superior hangover cure, they’ve never failed me.”

“There’s a McDonald’s nearby?”

Soonyoung grins, pulling keys out of his pocket and spinning them around his fingers a couple times, except they fly off and clatter on the floor. The man asleep on the counter, Yuta apparently, stirs but doesn’t move. You can’t help but smile as Soonyoung scrambles to retrieve them from the floor. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flustered.

“There isn’t one,” Soonyoung explains, leading the way to the door. “But I have the keys to Seungcheol’s car.”

“I’m not really comfortable with grand theft auto,” you say, though you don’t stop following him to Seungcheol’s giant white Jeep.

“He gave me the keys last night when I walked in,” Soonyoung says. “Something about owing me. He was pretty drunk.” He darts around to the passenger side before you can, opening the door for you. He waves his hand when you frown at him, as if you’re the one acting strange. Thinking with this headache is too hard so you just get into the car and strap the seatbelt on.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d steal a car,” Soonyoung says. He turns the engine on and scans the front of the car before finally settling his right hand on the gear shift.

“You have driven this car before, right?”

“Of course,” Soonyoung says a little too fast. You grab onto the door handle and hope that your stomach really is empty.

Soonyoung’s driving isn’t the worst you’ve ever experienced; that title goes to Jihoon, who was banned from touching car keys after his Mario Kart driving. That said, you think he’s a good second place. He slams on the gas and the brakes too hard and drives altogether too fast. He blasts the radio and sings along purposefully off key. You should be terrified but it’s the most fun you’ve ever had riding in the passenger seat.

“I’m never riding with you again,” you say, breathless from laughing. He pulls to a stop at the red light, the Golden arches of your destination still one light away. “You know yellow lights mean slow down right?”

“I stopped at this one!” Soonyoung says. “I’ll have you know I haven’t been in an accident.” He pauses. “Since I was nineteen.”

You nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from smiling fully. “That’s what I figured.” You peek at Soonyoung and he’s smiling too.

So different from the last time you saw him. You don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t be able to laugh and joke around with him so easily, not when you still haven’t apologized. And Soonyoung shouldn’t be looking at you like that, genuine fondness in his eyes.

“The light’s green,” you say. His smile fades a little when he turns his head and drives ahead, stepping lightly for once. You’re so close now, but a car going straight in the right lane prevents him from turning.

The pain medicine must have kicked in because your headache is slowly fading, replaced by heartache that no medication can cure.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You blurt out.

The blinker beeps a steady rhythm in the empty silence. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Nothing’s ever obvious with you, Soonyoung,” you say softly.

“Oh.” The light turns green and he guides the car slowly into the parking lot, stopping in a spot instead of pulling up to the drive through. As soon as the car is in park, he turns to face you. There’s a crease in his forehead that you recognize from the rare occasions that he would actually talk to you seriously. “YN, I genuinely thought I was being clear about this from the beginning, but if you still really don’t get it, then I’ll say it straight up: I like you. I’ve liked you since the day we met and then I fell in love with you.

“Did you know you’re the first person that’s ever genuinely believed in me? I mean, I know I have friends, and my family means well, but they always get this look in their eye whenever I talk about trying for things, like it was cute that I was trying, but they never actually believed in me. And I started to believe them too. I started to believe that I couldn’t believe in myself.” He frowns. “That makes no sense. The point is, you are the reason I started to believe in myself again.

“No one’s ever looked at me like you do. No one’s ever told me to get my shit together–well, they have, but you’re the only one that told me it was because I could be better.

“You say it wasn’t obvious, but I’ve tried to tell you a thousand times. I flirted, I tried to ask you on a date so many times, and I finally accepted that you’d never see me like that, so I was a dick. I told you off, even though you were right. I’m so sorry for that, and I’m sorry I ran away, and I’m sorry it took me so long to apologize.”

“Stop,” you say. Soonyoung’s eyes widen, tears welling up, and you realize he thinks you’re rejecting him. “Stop apologizing!” His brow creases in confusion, an adorable frown. Summoning all your courage, you reach out, resting your hand on his. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t have any right to judge you and the choices you were making, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you when I knew how much the bet meant to you.”

You squeeze his hand, closing your eyes. “And I think I was a little oblivious on purpose. I’m not the kind of person that has crushes, let alone crushes that like me back, so I freaked a little and missed all the signs.” You open your eyes and grin at him. It’s easy to feel brave when he smiles back at you. “But I like you, Soonyoung. I like you so much, I don’t have enough words to express it. My whole life has been about my future, my career, and it’s exhausting, but being with you makes it all exciting again. Like, no matter what happens, if you’re with me, it won’t just be okay, it’ll be fun.”

Soonyoung beams. “Really?”

You squeeze his hand. “I like you.” Like the first time you took the LSAT, you can’t think of a single word, except instead of damning your future this feels like the start of it. Soonyoung sits across from you and you don’t need words.

You don’t know how long you sit there, but reality sets in when your stomach growls. You glance outside the window and remember where you are. “Did you just confess to me in a McDonald’s parking lot?”

“Better than drunk in my own bed.”

“I didn’t!” You let go of his hand to hide your face.

Soonyoung grins. “You were cute!”

“I don’t remember it, it doesn't count!”

“Whatever you say,” Soonyoung says, leaning over the center console. He gently pulls your hands away from your face, hand circling your wrist gently. You instinctively hold your breath, though you don’t lean away. Soonyoung leans a little closer, forehead resting against yours.

“This okay?” He whispers, breath kissing your lips, and you remember that less than an hour ago, you were throwing up. Your head still aches and your stomach is still queasy and your whole body feels disgusting.

“We are not having our first kiss in a McDonald’s parking lot,” you say, leaning back. Soonyoung sighs, but he sits back in his chair, settling for grabbing your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours.

“Fine,” Soonyoung says. He rubs his thumb back and forth, and when you meet his eyes, you see a familiar glint of trouble. “You know I’m still sworn to you. Whatever you want.”

The words go straight to your heart. You could live a thousand lives and never meet someone as genuine as Soonyoung. You know that he means it, heart and soul, that he’d do anything for you. And it should be terrifying that he’s willing to bear his heart for you, that you are willing to do the same. But it’s Soonyoung. It’s easy to trust him with it, because even though he breaks half the computers he touches and can’t hold onto a pencil for his life, he won’t ever drop your heart.

I love you. One day you’ll be able to say it, one day you’ll scream it like you so desperately want to. But until then, you settle for his certified brilliant smile and the gentle brush of his lips on the back of your hand, only letting go to turn the engine back on.

“Let’s get you some fries,” he says. “Then kisses?”

You shake your head and laugh, slipping your hand back into his.

Before he can put the car into gear, his phone rings. He stares at the screen for a moment, frowning like he can’t decide whether he should answer it or not. Finally he slides the green across, turning on speaker.

“Hey Seungcheol, I’m with—”

“Where the hell are you? And where is my car?” Seungcheol’s voice is somewhere between angry and concerned. “You think it’s okay to vanish and then show up only to steal my car?”

“First of all, you gave me the keys,” Soonyoung says. He glances at you. “And I’m at McDonald’s because YN desperately needed a hangover cure.”

“Hey,” you say so Seungcheol knows you’re there.

The line is quiet for so long you think Soonyoung’s phone has finally given up on him but eventually he says, “You’re with YN?”

“We talked,” he says. “And we’re good.”

You snort. “That’s how you’re going to describe it?”

“Are we not good?”

You glance at your hand still intertwined with his, the Soonyoung Sparkle glittering back at you when you look him in the eyes. Good? There’s not a word to describe how you feel right now.

“We are beyond good.”

“Are you crying?�� You whisper. Soonyoung shakes his head, chin brushing against your head but when he inhales again, he sniffles. You reach up to pat his cheek and are entirely unsurprised when it’s wet. On screen Elle Woods continues her speech, for once not wearing pink.

“She’s just so cool,” Soonyoung says. You lift your head off his chest so you can look him in the eyes. The temptation to tease him is hard to resist but he pouts his lips and you see another tear slip out. You kiss his cheek, out of habit more than anything. Strange how much can change in two weeks, how something you’ve never imagined doing has become natural. But being with Soonyoung is just like that. New and old at the same time, the kind of comfort that has you planning how to make this last a lifetime.

Soonyoung wraps his arms around you tighter, so you nestle back into his chest, turning away from the end of the movie to close your eyes and breathe in his cologne.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck. “The whole bet was based on a movie you haven’t seen.”

“You’re missing the end,” he says. His voice rumbles in your ear, drowning out his heartbeat.

“I’ve seen it before.” Your bed really isn’t built for two people to lay down together. You are laying more on Soonyoung than the mattress but it’s not the first time. From the way he holds you, you doubt it’ll be the last.

The credits roll too quickly, but Soonyoung still doesn’t let go. He pulls you up so that your head is next to his, nose centimeters away from yours.

“So am I officially qualified to go to law school?” He asks.

“You are Elle Woods certified,” you say. “But you’re sure that’s what you want?”

“I mean I have to get in. But I figure if I’m going to waste away at a desk, I might as well do it for something I believe in.” He pauses. “With someone that believes in me.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, breath tickling the sensitive skin. You can’t help but sigh.

“That doesn’t mean it’s what you want,” you say, after several heartbeats of struggling to think.

“I want…” His words “To be with you. However you’ll have me.” His arms loosen, hands sliding down to your waist.

“Still not answering the question,” you breathe out but you can’t even remember what the question is, not when he’s shifting to lay on top of you, lips inching their way up your neck. He kisses your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips, then stops, pulling away and meeting your eyes again.

The Soonyoung Sparkle. The grinch has nothing on you–your heart swells so large it feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest–Alien style. Does he know what he does to you? How he’s made everything in your life shine? How happy you are when he’s with you?

“I love you,” you whisper.

Soonyoung blinks at you. “You…”

“I love you,” you say again, this time with more confidence. “I really, really love you.”

Soonyoung grins, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, moving like the world outside has stopped. He makes a bubble around you again, or maybe it’s your own heart; either way the only thing that exists is the way his hands inch up your shirt, the way his lips begin to press harder against yours. You give up on coherent thoughts, settling for wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“I love you, too,” Soonyoung whispers between kisses. “If that wasn’t obvious.”

Soonyoung who always treated you like you were enough already. Soonyoung who does everything with 100% of his heart. Soonyoung who has always been sincere with you, from the first day you met him. Soonyoung, who you are so lucky to be loved by.

You don’t know how to say any of this in a way that makes sense so you let his fire melt you until you are putty in his arms. He pulls away, and the Soonyoung Sparkle burns, your personal stars flickering back at you.

“You want to–” Soonyoung starts to say, but the door slams open. Then Soonyoung falls on you, pillow rolling off his head.

“I’m taking this back!” Someone shouts while you hear Jihoon cursing.

“Read the room, idiot!” Soonyoung pushes off of you, sitting up and pulling your shirt down as smoothly as he can. You sit up, trying to decide if you should be embarrassed or angry. Facing Jun, frozen midstep with his jaw hanging open a little and Jihoon in the doorway with his arms folded, shaking his head slightly, you opt for the latter.

“Does no one knock in Colombia?” You frown at him. “And when did you get back? Why didn’t you call?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he mumbles, staring at his feet. “And you were supposed to be alone, according to my sources.” He glares at Jihoon.

“YN didn’t say he was coming over,” he says with a shrug.

You turn your frown to him. “You walked in halfway through the movie, I literally shouted ‘Soonyoung’s over.’”

“I had my headphones on,” he says, though he’s avoiding your eyes too. Typical of your friends, never claiming responsibility for their actions.

“So this is Soonyoung,” Jun says, turning to face him. Soonyoung moved to the edge of the bed, too far away for your taste but probably an appropriate distance for your friends, especially compared to what they walked in on. Jun tilts his head. “You dyed your hair.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung scratches the back of his head. “Spur of the moment thing.” You miss the blonde, surprisingly fitting considering it isn’t his natural color. But the black suits him too, and probably will help him with law school interviews. Then again, knowing Soonyoung, this color won’t last long either. Good thing there isn’t a color you don’t think suits him.

“We should do this properly,” Soonyoung says. “Go out for dinner or something.”

“Hey, I didn’t get dinner,” Jihoon says.

“You want to get dinner with me?” Soonyoung perks up.

“No, I’m protesting unfair treatment.”

“It’s not unfair, I’m just clearly his favorite,” Jun says.

“Can you guys stop fighting over my boyfriend?” You say.

Jihoon and Jun stare at you. When Soonyoung turns to face you, he grins, eyes sparkling.

“What?”

“You just called him your boyfriend,” Jun says.

“Well… he is.” You feel your cheeks flush. “Why are you guys making it weird?”

“It’s not weird,” Soonyoung says. He scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s cute,” he whispers in your ear. “Adorable.” This only makes you flush even more.

“Well, I don’t want to interrupt, so I’ll just grab this and you two can get back to… whatever.” Jun takes a step towards your bookcase. You grab the pillow that he threw at Soonyoung and nail him in the chest, earning a laugh from Jihoon.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“The book is mine, Soonyoung never fulfilled the bet!” Jun says. You stand up, blocking him from your Pride and Prejudice.

“Hey, I followed through!” Soonyoung says. “We’re dating!”

“I remember the bet stating that you had to ask YN out after you took the LSAT.” Jun turns to him.

“And I did,” Soonyoung says. “You never said it had to be right after.”

Jun eyes him. “That’s cheating.”

“That’s being a lawyer,” you say. “And I think he’s going to be really good at it.”

Jun glances between you and Soonyoung and shakes his head. “Whatever, I’ll get my book back another day.”

You step closer to Soonyoung and he links his pinky with yours. You glance at your friends. “Are you going to stand there forever or are we getting dinner?”

“You two don’t want to get back to what you were doing?” Jihoon asks.

You slip your hand into Soonyoung’s. He meets your eyes and he’s only been your boyfriend for two weeks but looking at him is like looking home. There’s no need to rush.

“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to pick where we go.”

“We should make them pay, too,” Soonyoung says.

You grin at him. “You are the smartest person I know.”

#🌟 stars galaxy #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #svt reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fluff #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #svt hoshi #soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #soonyoung fluff #hoshi angst #soonyoung angst #soonyoung #svt x reader

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boorines · 6 months

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the first time | kwon soonyoung (M)

warnings/tags: fem reader, established relationship, bf!soonyoung, so much love, he is soo sweet, fingering, belly bulging, he talks u through it, praise, use of pet names ‘baby’ ‘angel’ ‘love’, multiple times, profanity. smut. MDNI

in response to this ask by @horanghaezone

—

you’re sitting on the end of the couch, your legs draped over soonyoung’s knees as he traces lazy circles on your calves. the tv drones in the background but the two of you don’t hear it, cocooned in a comfortable silence.

you’ve been dating soonyoung for just over a year now and you couldn’t be happier. from the gentle touches and soft glances he throws at you, followed by the warmest smiles, you know he feels the same. for the most part, you’ve been taking it slow. no matter how heated it had gotten, the two of you haven’t explored beyond passionate kisses and teasing hands.

tonight, though, the air is blanketed in a heavy something.

you try your best to ignore the desperate, achy feeling in the pit of your stomach as you adjust your place on the couch. pulling your legs off soonyoung’s lap, you opt to rest your head on his chest instead.

“all good, baby?”, he speaks softly as his hand comes up to rub your back. you nod, letting out a content sigh.

you shiver subconsciously when soonyoung’s hand drops to your waist, kneading your skin slowly. you look up at him in question and he shoots you a small smile. but there’s something in his eyes you just can’t place.

you brush it off and focus your eyes on the tv screen, trying your best to ignore the dull ache between your thighs. you don’t know it, but soonyoung can feel every shaky breath and shudder against his chest.

“hey, gorgeous?”, he prods. you tilt your face up to look at him, urging him to continue. “you doing okay? need anything, water, a blanket? different movie?”

“i’m okay, soonie”, you assure him with a soft smile. he nods and drops a feather-light kiss to your temple before turning his attention to the screen.

you curl into his arms with a leg flung over his knee, getting more worked up with every stroke of soonyoung’s fingers against your arm and every squeeze of your waist. you don’t even realise when you start rutting against his thigh, the movements first small and barely noticeable. he’s alerted, however, when he hears a soft whimper fall from your lips.

soonyoung’s eyes widen in surprise when he looks down and catches sight of the wet patch steadily growing on his sweatpants.

“baby”, he breathes out, voice strained. you look up at him, grinding against his thigh harder. your blown out pupils and shuddering breaths make him twitch in his sweats. “what are you doing?”

“soonie, i…”, you trail off, at a loss for words. you feel his hand snake around you and press against your pussy. the soft moan you let out makes his eyes roll back.

“keep going, pretty, it’s okay”, he whispers. you nod softly, getting needier by the second. “use my hand”.

“s-soonyoung, i need you”, you mumble desperately.

“i know, baby, i know”, he shushes.

“no, soonie, i need you. please”, your voice is trembling. and today just feels right.

soonyoung’s eyes widen and his breath hitches. he needs to make sure he heard you correctly.

“you want me, my love? completely?” he asks, careful, and you nod your head frantically.

“are you sure? i need to hear it, baby”. this is new territory for you and he’ll gladly wait another two years for you to be ready. but if you’re ready now, he has to be sure of it.

“yes, yes, soonyoung. please, take me”, you whine.

soonyoung swallows, heart beating out of his chest, and nods. he gently shifts you onto your back and locks his lips with yours, the kiss soft and slow.

“where do you want me?”, he whispers against your mouth. he’s going to make it as comfortable for you as possible, knowing this will be harder for you than it is for him.

“here, soonie”, you respond, pawing at the couch. he nods, in complete awe. he can’t believe you’re here, laying in front of him, and giving yourself to him.

“give me a second, baby”, he mumbles and you give him a small nod. he gets off the couch and jogs over to the bedroom, returning with a small foil-wrapped packet in his hand. he smiles softly, “i’ve had some on hand, you know, just in case we…”, he trails off. the shy smile you give him in return makes his heart swell.

soonyoung places his hands firmly on your hips, silently asking for permission to undress you. when you needily paw at his arm in response he chuckles and tugs your t-shirt up, lifting your back slightly to get it over your head. he hisses when he realises you aren’t wearing a bra, eyes drinking in every inch of your body. he’s seen you before, but the context of the situation takes his breath away and he runs his hands over your waist in awe.

he moves down to your shorts, gently sliding them down your legs. he discards them on the floor next to couch and turns back to look at you.

his breath catches in his throat. one of your hands is clutching the couch cushion behind you, the other resting on your stomach. you’re breathless, thighs parted ever-so-slightly, giving soonyoung a perfect view of your clothed pussy and the wet patch staining your panties. he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, and then one more, before moving down to your jaw. he suckles at the skin, trailing wet kisses down to your neck. he nips and licks at the skin as his hands slide up your stomach to fondle your breasts.

you moan softly as his large hands knead your tits, massing the skin carefully before flicking each nipple. you hiss and arch into his touch. the smile you feel against your neck makes you melt into a puddle on the couch. soonyoung trails kisses past your breasts, stopping to suck on your nipples quickly, and down your stomach. he stops right at the waistband of your panties, looking up at you to scan your face for any hesitance.

seeing none, he makes quick work of his own clothes, shucking his jeans off his legs and losing his shirt in a matter of seconds. he holds his breath as he pulls his boxer shorts down and off his legs. the breath he hears you suck in does nothing to help him maintain control. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and tugs. you kick them off your legs when he brings them below your knees.

he sits up on his knees and his eyes rove over your body, committing every inch to memory. “you’re beautiful”, he mutters. “fuck, you’re the most beautiful thing in the world”. you push your thighs closed, cheeks colouring pink at his words.

“no, no”, he says, gently pushing your legs apart. “you’re perfect, baby, just try to relax, okay?”

you nod. soonyoung throws you a deep, loving smile and turns to your wet cunt. he rubs a finger along your folds slowly, drawing out a small whimper from your throat. “just gonna stretch you out, angel. won’t be too long”, he whispers, dropping a soft kiss to your hip before carefully massaging your clit. he slides his digit lower, collecting your wetness on his finger and smearing it over the nub. he rubs slow circles onto your clit, coaxing soft whines from your throat, before gently easing a finger into your warm entrance.

you mewl loudly, earning a light chuckle from soonyoung. after pumping one finger into you, pulling shuddering breaths from your lungs, he slowly pushes in a second finger. “that’s it, so pretty, just a little more, baby”. he leans his head against your thigh as he works his fingers into you, scissoring them open gradually. he suckles bright marks into the skin of your thigh, revelling in your soft whimpers as he eases you open.

he feels you start to shake around him and quickens his pace. “good girl, so good, almost there”, he mumbles against your hip, pumping into you with fervour. “cum, baby, cum for me, yeah?”, he encourages and you do. the coil in your stomach snaps and you shudder, a loud mewl leaving your mouth. he continues to fuck his fingers into you as he listens to your breathy whines.

soonyoung looks up at you and smiles, propping himself up to give you a long, sweet kiss on your mouth. he takes his time, savouring the taste of your lips and the feel of your tongue against his. he deepens the kiss, the air around the two of you getting heavier. “you ready, my love?”, he whispers against your lips. the firm nod you give him makes him groan into your mouth.

he leans on his heels above you, eyes trained on yours. he reaches for the packet next to him, hastily ripping it open with his teeth. he maintains searing eye contact with you as he rolls the rubber onto his leaking dick. the pink colouring your cheeks and the shy look in your eyes is such a contrast from the way your thighs are spread in front of him and he throws his head back with a groan, pumping his cock once, twice before lining it up at your entrance.

the sinful moan that leaves your mouth when he pushes himself into you gently is enough to make him cum, he thinks. “that’s it, pretty, fuck”, he breathes out as he inches himself deeper into you at a snail’s pace. he spots your hand clawing at the couch in an effort to take all of him and his heart swells. he reaches for your hand and holds it tight, rubbing small circles onto your knuckles. “taking me so well, baby. just a little more, yeah? you can do it”.

you whine loudly as he gradually bottoms out inside you, stilling to let you adjust to his size. “all good, baby?”, he asks carefully, squeezing your hand when he sees your watery eyes.

“good, soonie”, you manage to push out, “just a s-stretch”. your face is flushed and your pupils are blown wide, the sight makes soonyoung twitch inside you. he nods and pulls your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your fingers and mumbling soothing words of encouragement and praise against your skin.

“shit, you’re so tight. look so good around me, baby”, he says breathlessly. he remains still, letting you get used to the intrusion completely. he looks down at your connected bodies and catches sight of his cock bulging in your stomach. he feels his mind short circuit and before you know it he’s tugging your hand down to rest on your lower tummy.

“i’m going to move now”, he speaks softly, waiting for your nod before starting to move inside you. you mewl, letting out little gasps and whines as he buries himself into you and pulls out gently. you feel his cock move against your hand and your eyes roll back. “feel that, baby? feel my cock inside your tummy? fuck, taking me so good, my love”.

with every careful thrust soonyoung has you seeing stars. “soonie, more, please”, you whine and you hear him chuckle above you, pushing his length back into your soaking cunt. “fuck, soonyoung, feels so g-good”.

every now and then soonyoung checks in on you with a gentle, ‘this okay, my love?’ as he fucks into you. the needy moans and the desperate bucking of your hips is all the answer he needs, but he’s extra careful anyway.

he continues sliding his cock in and out of you, his pace now quick and consistent. he mumbles sweet nothings to you, occasionally letting filth fall out of his mouth just so he can feel your sopping hole clench around him. when you start clawing at his forearm, legs shaking and high-pitched whines tumbling past your lips, he knows you’re close.

“such a good girl, so pretty for me”, he grunts, pushing into you relentlessly. “gonna cum, baby? yeah?”. the frantic nod you give him has him spearing into you deeper, hitting the gummy spot in your hot cunt just right.

“g-gonna cum, soonie”, you whine, and soonyoung’s hand instantly finds your clit, rubbing tight circles around the nub as your back arches off the couch.

“yes, that’s it, baby, cum for soonie”, he mutters, flicking your clit as you clench around his cock.

your eyes roll back and your vision flashes white, lewd moans tumbling out of your mouth as you release all over soonyoung’s cock. your legs are shaking and your pussy is fluttering around your boyfriend as he fucks you through your high.

“oh, my love, that’s it. such a good fucking girl for me”, he breathes, close to his own release. “soonie’s almost there, baby”.

the whiny noises you make from the overstimulation of his cock sliding against your walls pushes soonyoung to his high. his thrusts get sloppy, hips snapping into you as he groans sweet praises into your ear. he throws his head back as he empties himself into the condom, his hands gripping your hips tightly. he gradually stills inside you, dropping wet kisses to your mouth, your jaw, your neck and wherever else he can reach.

he pulls out of you so so slowly, hissing as he pulls the rubber off his dick and ties it closed. he effortlessly tosses it into the trash can behind the couch. he turns his attention to your blissed out face, eyes scanning your features for any sign of discomfort.

“how are you feeling, baby?”, he asks softly, hand moving up to stroke your cheek lovingly.

“amazing, soonie”, you whisper in response. “felt so good”.

“yeah?”, he smiles at you, eyes crinkling with fondness. “you feel okay? does it hurt? do you need anything?”

you shake your head with a soft smile, wincing slightly. “all good, just sore”, you pout. his eyebrows knit together as he kisses your mouth gently, pouring all his love and care onto your lips. his hands reach down to massage your thighs, hoping to soothe any soreness and you sigh in relief.

the couch is ruined with the remains of your treasured moment with soonyoung, your juices and the remnants of your first time staining the fabric. “shit”, you mutter in panic.

soonyoung laughs. “it’s okay, baby. it was worth it, hm?”, he finishes with a wink. you slap at his arm in exasperation.

“it’s ruined, soonyoung. we can’t sit on this”, you groan. “we can’t even get this cleaned…”, you trail off.

he stands up from the couch and reaches for the wet wipes on the coffee table. you can’t even remember how long they’ve been there. he gently begins to clean you up, wiping at any juices staining your thighs.

“we’ll get a new one, angel. we’ve had this one for so long i’m surprised you didn’t feel the springs poking into you. you were pressed right into it”, he quips with a raise of his eyebrow.

your cheeks bloom red and you swat at his arm again, “soonyoung”, you hiss.

he tosses the used wipe into the trash can and looks at you with a grin. “you can’t be shy after that”, he says. “and it’s true. you were, and it surely won’t be the last time”, he adds.

you blush a bright pink at his words as he leans down to kiss you. he gently props you up and continues peppering kisses to your lips and heated cheeks with a chuckle. “i’ll run a bath for us, hm?”, he says, massaging your thighs and lower stomach to dull the ache. he hopes you won’t feel it as much after a warm bath. you hum in acknowledgment.

as soonyoung pushes himself off the couch with another kiss to your forehead, you think you couldn’t be happier. you feel so safe, so secure with the fact that you placed your trust in his hands. your first time in his hands.

and you know he feels the same. soonyoung would place his life in yours.

—

omg this one is long…. but ahh!! this was so much fun to write!! sweet hoshi talking u through it is my weakness..

thank u @horanghaezone for requesting this ask and i hope u enjoy it!!

as always, asks and requests are open and reblogs and comments are so so appreciated!!

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welcometomyoasis · 4 months

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Seventeen's passenger princess line

Jeonghan, soonyoung, dk, mingyu, seungkwan x gn! reader | fluff | 800 words | warnings: one mention of a car crash A/n: inspired by this video of jeonghan and his crush

➳ Jeonghan

Jeonghan adores being your passenger princess. Driving can be tiring and we all know he gets tired easily. When you drive, he can literally sit back, relax, and rest. Watching you drive also drives him crazy. You look so focused on the road, yet you always still keep an eye out for him to ensure he is safe and comfortable. If you hit a road bump, he loves that your hand instinctively shoots out in front of him to protect him. It makes him feel so protected. Plus, he can then not so subtly intertwine your hand and bring it to his lips. Sometimes you have to give him a pointed look when he doesn’t want to let go. But hey, he gives you that cheeky grin that you love so much and suddenly you’re perfectly capable of driving with only one hand!

➳ Soonyoung

Soonyoung actually loves driving you around because it makes him feel like he is pampering you. The only thing is Soonyoung is kind of technologically illiterate, and he’s not the best driver. You’ve seen how he drives. He goes really fast and then only slows down when there’s a police car. So, if you want to live get to where you want to go, it’s best if he is your passenger princess. It’s so much safer this way. He’s still in charge of the map which means that you do end up getting lost, but at least you’re not getting fined for speeding. He also takes his role as your passenger princess very seriously since it means he is in charge of the music. Although he is physically and mentally incapable of connecting his phone to the car’s bluetooth system, he just plays it out of his phone. He might be very loud when he screams along to the songs, but you can’t help but stare at him from the corner of your eye adoringly.

➳ Dokyeom

Listen, Dokyeom is very baby girl coded. Those huge biceps and muscles he has? It’s just all for show. He ADORES being your passenger princess. He definitely insists on you doing all the things that usually make people swoon. He has you steering with one hand, with your other either intertwined with his or wrapped around his thigh. You’ve even mastered parking with one hand while the other rests on his headboard. When you’re on roadtrips, he unwraps your snacks for you and feeds you. He makes sure you are hydrated. Even if you are not looking at him, you can practically feel the love radiating from his eyes as he stares at you. He can’t help it! He’s just so smitten with this image of you taking charge and driving. It does something to his heart.

➳ Mingyu

Similar to Dokyeom, Mingyu can be very baby girl coded. It’s not that he doesn’t like driving. In fact he enjoys it because he can do all the things that would make you swoon. He especially loves wrapping one of his large hands around your thigh. But sometimes, he does prefer to kick back and let you take charge. Obviously, Mingyu has a lot of golden retriever energy. If the road is clear enough and there is a lot of pretty scenery, you would offer to take over the wheel so he can enjoy the surroundings. Mingyu would probably look at the passing scenery in awe and wonder. He would point out things that fascinate him, and it would be so endearing to see just how much he is enjoying himself. I also see him rolling down the window and peeking his head slightly out the window to feel the wind in his hair. The blissful smile that would spread across his face would be one that you can never forget.

➳ Seungkwan

Seungkwan is not the best driver. Let’s just get that out of the way. His driving skills are infamous at this point. Sometimes he has trouble figuring out the wipers and the signals that are on the car’s dashboard. To put it simply. You do not want to die in a car crash. It doesn’t take much to convince him to be your designated passenger princess. Everyone is less stressed this way. Seungkwan can be somewhat of a backseat driver, but he knows when to keep his mouth shut around you. All it takes is one look and a comment remotely referencing the time he almost whacked the curb because he couldn’t figure the signals out, to shut him up. Instead, you get him to be your live radio. Sure, you can just use the bluetooth speaker, but where else are you going to get such beautiful live music for free? Besides, it’s so adorable when he really gets into singing the songs.

taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff

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wheeboo · 5 months

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little stars | kwon soonyoung

SYNOPSIS. in which you find a beauty mark on your boyfriend that you haven't seen before. PAIRING. kwon soonyoung x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing, terms of endearment, reader has a birthmark on their neck and beauty marks of their own!! (tad bit self-indulgent cuz i have a kinda obnoxious birthmark on my neck), soonyoung makes a tiny suggestive joke WORD COUNT. 1.7k

"You have a mole on your neck."

Your words were enough to catch Soonyoung's attention, and he looks up to you all of a sudden, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of you perched on top of the bathroom counter and peering in his direction. His hand stops mid-brush in his mouth, and he blinks at you with toothpaste foam still lingering at the corners of his mouth, and it all makes for such a cute, endearing sight.

"A mole?" he repeats, voice muffled by the toothbrush. He spits into the sink, rinses his mouth, and turns to face you with an intrigued look.

"Yeah, right there. It's a tiny one," You say giddily, chuckling at his reaction, before pointing to the spot on your own neck to give him a reference, and he's immediately trying to look at himself in the mirror. "It's cute, actually. You've never seen it before?"

Soonyoung squints at his reflection in the mirror, craning his neck to get a better view.

"I... I guess I just never paid much attention," he admits, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

You tilt your head in thought, still watching the way he inspects his own neck. The beauty mark on his neck was indeed microscopic to the eye, but now you can add it to the little mental list in your head of little quirks that make your adorable boyfriend who he is. Plus, it's another spot you can pay a tiny bit more attention to when you want to shower him with affection.

"Okay, wait, come here." You motion for him to come up to you, and he complies immediately.

As he stands in front of you in between your legs, you dangle your arms on his shoulders, and his hands instinctively come to your waist. Then you gently tilt his head, guiding him to expose the spot on his neck. Your fingers graze the mole lightly, tracing its outline with a feather-like touch. Soonyoung shivers slightly at the contact, but he keeps his eyes fixed on you.

With a faint, teasing smile, you bring him closer to you so you could softly plant a kiss on the spot where his mole resides. Soonyoung's breath catches in his throat, momentarily frozen by the brief touch of your lips on his skin. When you pull back, his eyes meet yours, the bathroom light reflecting in them like a constellation, and there's a softness in the way he looks at you.

"I have... other ones too, you know," he mutters quietly.

You quirk up a brow, smirking smugly. "Oh, I know."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Like..." You turn his head just slightly, leaning in close with your warm breath hitting his skin, making him shiver. "You have one right here on your ear." Then you shift him back to face you, and your hand makes his way to the sleeve of his shirt, and you lift it up a bit so his bicep and shoulder is exposed. "You have another one right here."

Each touch upon his skin makes Soonyoung feels he's discovering more about himself than he ever has. Sure, he's known he has beauty marks on him, but they've never received this much attention before, and it feels surprisingly intimate and sweet. The small act of appreciation makes his heart swell in his chest.

"And here," You continue, tracing the outline of another hidden detail on his forearm. "You have a tiny freckle. I bet you didn't even notice it."

Soonyoung can't help but grin dorkily. "You've been studying me," he accuses playfully.

There's a mischievous yet innocent look to your face as you respond, "Maybe a little."

There's a pout to his face when you bring your eyes back up after you point out the little stars on his skin. Your words, not his𑁋he absolutely melted at your words when you first mentioned it. His hands are still positioned on your waist, rubbing in place there up and down soothingly.

"I... I feel like a bad boyfriend now," he murmurs, almost in shame.

Worry etches across your face; the smile to your lips drops a little. "Why's that?"

"Well, I..." He pauses, and you see the way his cheeks darken with a slight blush. "I-I want to study you too."

It's a lot more than just that too, but it's hard to exactly voice that without sounding weird. He wants to commits every part of you to his memory, to make sure he never misses a spot, that every detail of you receives the love it deserves. He wants to know the little stories behind your freckles, the histories etched in your scars if you'd let him𑁋just, all simply and humanely, you.

Your heart flutters at his words, a certain warmth spreading through your body, and you reach your hands to cup his face lightly. A soft smiles plays at your lips as you lean in to plant a small kiss to his mouth, and it seems to fade away the sulkiness to his face.

"Baby, you're not a bad boyfriend at all," You reassure him. "And... you can study me too. You have all the time in the world to do so."

A genuine, even eager smile tugs at his lips, and he leans in for another lingering kiss. You can taste the remnants of mint from the toothpaste on his lips. His hands slide from your waist to your back, pulling you even closer. When you finally pull away, the two of you a bit breathless, nothing but contented grins play on both of your faces.

"Okay, let's start with the obvious." You angle your head a bit so he could see the birthmark to your neck. "You already know about this one."

He does. He knows it very well𑁋it's one of his favourite spots to kiss.

Soonyoung leans in, mirroring your earlier actions. His lips meet the delicate skin of your neck, a gentle kiss planted on the birthmark. It's a tender, affectionate gesture that sends a shiver down your spine and a giggle to escape from you, and you notice the satisfied look to his face when he pulls away.

"There's a mole here. On my cheekbone." You point to a faint, small one on your face, just a little bit below the edge of your eye.

You feel the way his finger traces the beauty mark with the pad of his thumb. The soft touch sends a tingling sensation through your skin, and even more so when he presses yet another peck to the spot, his lips lingering for a moment longer.

"And then, um..." You bring your index finger to the collar of your shirt, lowering it down to reveal another very small beauty mark on your collarbone. "There's another one right here."

His eyes light up with curiosity as he follows the path of your finger. Then he leans in, kissing the spot to your exposed skin very delicately, like a promise. Your breath hitches as his lips meet your collarbone, the tender touch sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Soonyoung's eyes remain fixed on the spot he just kissed, his expression nothing short of adoration.

"Are there more?" he asks excitedly.

His curiosity makes you chuckle. "Of course there are more." Without hesitation, you lift up your shirt slightly to reveal another beauty mark above your navel. "Here's one that's been hiding."

Soonyoung's eyes light up with excitement as he lowers himself down to inspect the newly revealed beauty mark. He traces the outline with the tip of his finger, committing its shape to memory.

"Pretty," he whispers, before placing a gentle kiss on the hidden mark.

"Are you just going to kiss every single one?" You tease, a playful glint in your eyes as he comes back up to you.

"Hmm, it's how I remember where they are." And it's another way of saying, I see you, every part of you, and I love it all, he thinks.

His response makes you laugh, a melodic sound that fills the bathroom with warmth and comfort. Soonyoung looks up at you fondly with a playful twinkle in his eyes, and you can't help but admire the genuine joy that radiates from him. With every kiss he places upon your skin, each one seemingly lasting a bit longer than the previous, you swear your heart can't take much more sweetness.

Yet, you're completely enchanted by the way Soonyoung gazes at you, as if you're the most precious thing in the world, and you find yourself eagerly anticipating the next one.

"I think I've memorized all of you now," Soonyoung claims, hands coming to rest on your thighs as you pull back from him slightly.

You run a hand through his hair, before cupping his face in your hand. "Really? Already?"

He tilts his head slightly, trying to suppress the chuckle bubbling in his chest, but it doesn't last long at all, and you catch the hint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, I... I think I have to practice a bit more, you know..."

A shy smile plays on Soonyoung's lips as he glances down, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on your thighs, a hint of a blush colouring his face, and they tint with a deeper shade of pink as he shyly meets your gaze.

"I mean, I don't want to miss any details, you know? It's important." You're important to me, he says in his head.

Gosh, he's so sweet and he's yours𑁋this cuddly, adorable, loveable, affectionate man is yours.

"I don't mind at all," You reply, tapping his nose lightly. "You can take all the time you need."

The curve to his lips is cutely lopsided as he brushes his lips up against yours once more. His hands, which are still resting on your thighs, tighten their grip ever so slightly, not in a possessive manner, but as if he's grounding himself to this very moment, and he wants nothing more than to savour every single second of it.

When he pulls back, you feel the way his fingertips are unconsciously drawing patterns on your thighs.

"I think," he whispers. "this is my favourite part of the day."

You giggle, a light and airy sound that fills the space between you. "Even after all the ramen we had earlier?"

"Well, that was fun, but this..." he hums. "I could get used to this."

You can't tell if he means specifically just kissing and memorizing you, or just being here together in the comfort of his apartment, where once a spare toothbrush had grown to become yours, where the spot by the door became the spot where you also place your shoes next to his, or that the right side of his bed is precisely the spot you always sleep in whenever you come over. Whatever it is, you think you can get used to it too.

"Me too," You confess, trailing your hands up his arms and giving them a little squeeze. "Me too."

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gyuswhore · 11 months

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The thing about love;

Hoshi (k.s.y) x reader; university!au (ft. Jeonghan x OC)

genre: fluff, angst, humour, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, corny jokes, slapping (apologies are given), yelling, alcohol, shitty friends, kind of a mean girl thing (not reader), broken friendships, heavy emotions (at certain points), reader in denial (lmk if there's anything else)

25.3k words (I will better myself)

masterlist

excerpt: The slap you sent across Kwon Soonyoung’s face sent a reverberating sound across the dance studio.

He looks up, eyes bloodshot and swimming with fury. There’s a hint of a smile on his face for some reason, which you realize may be out of disbelief.

You don’t register anything else other than the rage that accelerates down your own veins. There’s a part of you that wants to do it again when he utters his next words.

“That was a bad fucking idea”

(A/N): FINALLY it's here. Tysm for clicking on this I love y'all tons for the support on all my other work, I hope this one makes the mark too! This reflects more of my personal situations more than you’d think, broken friendships that you'd never imagine to lose hurt like a bitch and I’m so sorry if you’ve gone through this too. Hopefully, Hoshi can give you some solace <3

***

“No” had become your response to a lot of people ever since they started finding out you were best friends with Jennie.

You loved her, a lot, but not that much when people in your classes that you’ve never spoken to before would come up to ask for her number under the pretense of asking for notes.

Jennie was gorgeous. She was gorgeous in elementary school, never had an awkward middle school phase, and was classified as stunning all throughout high school. It was a bit unbelievable, but having seen it all, it was common knowledge for you. While she was naturally very pretty, Jennie always knew how to carry herself. She realized what she had to do to look presentable when most pre-teens like her, absolutely did not. This was confidence that she’d built for years.

At an age where everyone is trying to find themselves, Jennie had herself all figured out.

You were denying another poor lover in the library, knowing he was cussing you out in his head for wasting his time. This one lasted longer though, you had almost 3 separate study sessions before he popped the question.

Honestly, you really can’t complain too much. It was nice having a study partner that sacrificed their wants for your own conditions and preferences - you hated when people spoke to you before the timer went off, Jennie doesn’t get that. You see it coming, after 3 years, of course you do, but you let it happen because there was really no way to deflect them when there was no obvious giveaway to the general individual, and you got use out of it, so you let it be.

Besides, it got significantly easier by your second year, when you finally had a reason for your “no” that actually made them shut up.

“She has a boyfriend”

His face kind of falls, but you knew you weren’t telling him any information he didn’t know. But he tried anyway, and you can respect that.

Jennie started dating Kwon Soonyoung of the dance team at the beginning of her second year at university. He was fine, you meet him a lot during frat parties and other meet-ups; you’d classify him as a friend but that was it really. His friends called him Hoshi (Jennie hated that name for some reason), he liked tigers (?) and he liked to dance. So much so that he was the pride of not just the dance team, but the university as a whole too. A micro-celebrity? You aren’t entirely sure, but you do know that he’s popular as fuck.

You decide to call it a day after watching the grumbly soul struggle through another 50 minutes of discreet math after his indirect rejection during your scheduled breaks. He’s quick to leave with a half smile; he won’t be texting you for too long after this.

You pack up to leave too, but not before grabbing Americano’s for both you and Jennie like she texted you a couple hours ago. You’re about to walk across the street to get to your dorm building when you hear a yell for your name along the pavement.

It’s Jennie running towards you at full speed. You turn to her in a panic trying to signal her to slow down, knowing what she was planning on doing.

“Jennie- JENNIE! I’m holding DRINKS, PLEASE”,

She doesn’t care as she continues to barrel towards you faster, forcing you to jump out of the way when she gets close enough so you don’t spill coffee all over your white zip up.

She tries to stop before she hits the banner advertising your uni’s IT club, which she does. But not before she drops her bag and herself with it onto the grass from the momentum. She jolts up, annoyed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had drinks in your hand?” she huffs

You look at her in mild shock, “The same drinks you asked me to get you? And what do you mean, I literally yelled at you, you could see them in my hands too”

She pauses before muttering “Whatever, help me up”

You lift your hands and arms full of coffee, a paper bag, and a tote in mock helplessness, “Hands full, sorry chief”

Once she does get up and dusts herself off, she helps you with your load as you cross the street back to your dorm.

Once there, you set everything down before heading in to change into your pajamas for comfort.

“Hey, can I call a raincheck on movie night? Soonie wants to show me the new choreo for comp but he doesn’t get the studio till 9 for like an hour”

You swerve in your socks as you hear her say that; this was the 4th time.

“Jennie, you said that last week! And the week before, and the one before that-"

“I know, I know! But please, you know he can’t run stuff through the team without showing me first” She has her pleading eyes out, she tries to walk towards you to squeeze you, but you dodge her for the second time that hour.

“Fine! Go to your man” you say, hands raised and visibly annoyed. You’re actually walking into your room before you come back out when you hear her start to say something “And don’t promise anything for next week, especially when you know you can’t keep it”

You slam the door a little too hard as you hear a muffled “I’ll make it up to you!” from the other side.

You scoff a little, also knowing that she’s repeated that for the past year and has barely kept to it.

You had hoped her blowing you off every other day for something was a symptom of the honeymoon phase, that she’d grow out of after the first couple months of dating Soonyoung. That couple months grew to more than a year and those two are still seemingly attached to the hip, which would be cute if it didn’t automatically put you on the lower side of the priority list.

It was disrespectful, and you’d never ever put up with it if it was anyone else, but you loved Jennie too much to give her more than a few stern responses. She’d stuck with you through your worst and your best, became a sister in every way but blood. No matter what, there comes a point where you realize you can’t abandon someone who’s become family.

Besides, you’re sure you’ve done (and actively do) multiple things that make her want to bury you 6 feet deep, and she hasn’t done it yet. Give and take?

That doesn’t stop you from pushing your legs into the holes of your pajama shorts any less aggressively though, actively pissed at another blow off. You wash the makeup off your face, scrubbing more aggressively than you should as you dry off to a red and irritated face. You hope the moisturizer helps.

When you come out Jennie’s already gone. It was still only 6 PM, but that wasn’t gonna stop her from jetting off at the first chance. You glance at the table to notice one missing coffee of two and a half a cold croissant.

At least she put it on a plate.

***

Joshua was sprawled out on the loveseat, blanket over his body as you ranted from the adjacent single-seater. You were watching Moana, but Maui’s character was pissing Joshua off for some reason so he turned your attention to a makeshift therapy session instead.

“How many times do you give someone the same, very upset reaction for them to stop continuing to do the same thing the next time? Because it’s really not fun being in a pissy mood for the rest of the day. I’m just tired of having to mentally prepare myself for a ‘hey, sorry’ text for any plan that we make, sometimes while I’m already at the place!”

You started slightly yelling at some point, and Joshua looks quite invested, despite hearing Jennie as a topic for the nth time, so you keep going.

“And I want to blame her boyfriend, but I can’t because, is it not her job to schedule things appropriately? She's a grown ass adult!"

You’re fully yelling now, breathing heavily as a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. You don't talk about Jennie problems with anyone except Joshua and Alyssa. You two were seen as too close-knit for you to be talking like this about her to people who were your close friends, but not enough to trust them to not get the wrong idea and think you're actively bashing her.

Because you're not, at least that's what both Josh and Alyssa tell you at the end of every frustrated ramble. It's guilt you feel, like you're betraying your friend for a petty problem you have with her attitude.

"You know, you'd think another party would be less important than a commitment she's been falling out on for 4 weeks," Joshua states, leaning across the gap between him and the coffee table to grab a handful of trail mix. "As much as I love watching an overgrown man baby sing about his life's achievements, it should be her sitting here not me. And that's something that's past the point of excuses"

"She's not at a party" you grumble, trying to take in Joshua's last bit about excuses.

"Yeah, she is" He retorts.

"How do you know that, fucking campus reporter or something?" you shoot back, annoyed at his certainty.

"You don't follow Hoshi? Or Dino? Or literally anyone from the dance team?"

"Why can't any of these people have normal names? And, yes, I do. I think I follow Jun or Hao or someone, Soonyoung too. Why does it matter?" you’re grumbling now.

"Where did Jennie tell you she went?" Joshua asks, his chewing slowed.

You're looking at him a little wavered now, when you answer.

"At the studio? She said it was at 9, and she should be there right now. Something about Soonyoung wanting to show her a new choreo for comp"

"Comp season ended last week, do even live in this establishment? Hoshi's passionate but even he needs rest, no way he has something cooked up so soon"

You're building a retort before he shoves his phone in your face.

"Besides they're literally at the end-of-season party, right now. The entire team's posting about it and Jennie's in the pictures"

You grab his phone as you see a shaky video of Jennie and her friend Minji dancing to indecipherable music, seemingly having the time of their lives. You're leaning forward, elbows on thighs, as you notice she's wearing the same outfit you last saw her in just a few hours ago.

You regret not touching your phone the entire day.

"Did you really not know? I thought that was why you were so mad"

You're tapping through the endless stories Chan had posted, almost all of them containing either Jennie or Soonyoung. Sometimes both. You only answer when you're done, and it moves to another person's posts.

"No. I didn't know" Your expression is blank, as you process what this meant.

"I think - she was invited too so she wasn't a plus one. She hosts the in-house competitions and everything." Joshua starts cautiously, monitoring your expression.

You know he's only telling you this because you hate not knowing. Anything. You hate being left in the dark.

Jennie knows that better than anyone.

"So, who was her plus one?" you ask, taking a breath and sitting up straight.

He pauses before saying, "I don't know, Minji’s there. I don't think she even knows anyone from the team"

You end up leaning back on the sofa, trying to process this new advancement. The cogs in your brain are pushing to rotate as hard as they can but whatever thought they're trying to pull is sedimented to stay as is.

"She's gonna come home drunk. And maybe bring Soonyoung with her. I really don't wanna be here for that" you say quietly, voicing the realization as it comes to you.

"Fuck that. Come home with me, and shut this stupid movie off" He grabs the remote and turns off the TV. It's completely silent in the room now.

"I can't, I have a meeting in the morning," you say, your voice devoid of any particular emotion.

"It's Saturday tomorrow. What do you mean?"

"Some T.A. thing, I don't know man" you reply.

"Pack an outfit then, grab a toothbrush bring a fucking suitcase, I don't care. You don't need to be seeing her anytime soon. "

You know he's right, you aren't sure what you'll do when you see her. You know she's gonna come home, with Soonyoung or not, she hates his roommates. She fucking hates everyone.

"Go. Pack your stuff, I'm taking you with me. Now. I'll clean up from here"

You push yourself off your seat and launch yourself forward into Joshua's arms. You hugged him for a little bit, trying to gain your bearings, he didn't say a word and just hugged you back.

As you're shoving your stuff into an overnight bag and pulling sweatpants over your shorts, you wonder what you would've done if you found out by yourself and were forced to come face to face with her.

Again, you're not sure what you'd do. But you're afraid the worst thing you probably would've done, was nothing.

***

Seokmin, Joshua's roommate wasn't home when you both got to his place. Which was upsetting because you were starting to count on his presence to make you feel better, as infectious as his optimism is. But you crash on Joshua's bed, nevertheless, trying to decide if you wanted to cry or make dinner.

You chose the latter except Joshua ate nothing but cereal and instant ramen, so you ordered takeout. But by the time the food got here, you had skimmed through your entire timeline for pictures of the end-of-season party, which it seemed like everyone was at.

You didn't care that you weren't invited, you didn't mind a good house party once in a while but it wasn't a regular occurrence for you and you liked it that way. It wasn't some gathering that you were missing right now.

What hurt was that Jennie lied straight to your face. And for seemingly no good reason other than she needed an excuse to get out of hanging out with you. It wasn’t that stuff like this was a rare occurrence, having gone to parties thrown by the dance team themselves multiple times; Jennie even more than that. You knew you weren't disliked by people, nor someone who brought the mood down by just sitting there. People on the team and beyond that were friends with you, if not that then they certainly knew of your existence.

You also knew that there was no excuse she could've given (outside of emergencies) that would not have made you upset, including a supposed private showing of her boyfriend’s prancing dance moves.

Throughout all of this, you found no possible reason why she would feel the need to lie to you, realizing more and more that the chances being within your faults were getting slimmer and slimmer with each passing thought.

You realize she may have been lying the past 4 weeks too if not more than that.

You’re voicing all of this as a train of thought as you eat your food on Joshua's bedroom floor. He's listening to you talk, allowing you to make connections and figure things out for yourself.

"Maybe I've been too insufferable. I don't know why else she'd do something like this"

Joshua scoffs as he picks at his veggies "My ass, it's her that's insufferable, they only ever invite her to stuff out of courtesy for Soonyoung. I guess her MC-ing thing is an added reason but I know for a fact that she's only there at other parties because of him"

He shovels a spoonful of rice in his mouth, "She used up her pretty privileges long ago before people realized how obnoxious she was. I get why you put up with her but honestly, can she stop yelling all the fucking time it's migraine-inducing just thinking about it"

Your interest was piqued when you urged Josh to continue. This was news to you.

"What do you mean? Is she not liked?"

"Let's start with how her mood swings are a nightmare, and she expects everyone to keep up with it and tend to her every last need. She hates it when Mingyu or anyone roasts her for something knowing full well she's said more than enough below-the-belt bullshit straight to his and other people's faces while laughing."

This was so much information. Too much.

"How come-"

"Because you’re her best friend. Why would anyone show you that they have a problem with her? Besides, it's not you that's the problem, it's her. They invite you all the time - they aren't bound to do that - because they want you to be there. Jennie's under the sour impression that it's her influence that brings you there, which is far from the truth"

You've put your utensils down at this point, processing yet another plethora of information.

"How come you didn't tell me about any of this," you ask him quietly.

You knew that Joshua wasn't too fond of Jennie because he believed she was using you too much. But how other people also felt was something you realize you should've figured out by yourself.

"Because you worry too much. That she'd get hurt or somebody might say something to her to put her off. You care too much to the point where you're more worried about her than she is about herself, let alone about you - no I don't wanna hear it, you know I'm right, Y/n"

Assertion was not common to hear with Joshua, so if he was being this stern, there had to be some validity to it that you can't see just yet.

So, you silence yourself and try to think about what this means for you.

"Why do you think she's being so careless right now? She's lying to you and then proceeding to not care that people are posting her. There's no way she doesn't know, she has about ten cameras shoved in her face in almost all of them. The truth of the matter is that she knows you're on her side no matter what, she doesn't have to worry about convincing you"

It's a slap in the face, but one that you know you needed if you were to take any steps going forward.

"Should I talk to her about it tomorrow?" You ask, genuinely not knowing what to do.

"I think it's high time you confront her about this. About everything, really. She's getting too comfortable doing whatever the fuck she wants and that's not how a friendship works, doesn't matter how long you know a person"

You know he's right. But you also know it's gonna be a nightmare trying to bring this up to her. You don't mind confrontation, it's not something you run away from and neither does Jennie. The problem arises in the fact that Jennie is the most defensive person you know, all while under the assumption that she's 'quite understanding' (her words, not yours).

"That's what I think you should do. The rest is up to you"

He's putting responsibility back in your hands, after helping you realize what you owed yourself. You appreciate him for that more than he could imagine, but you wonder if you're ready to deal with the headache that's bound to come when you bring this up with her.

You fluff your pillow about 7 and a half times that night as you try to go to sleep, Joshua long gone before you as he breathes softly on the other side of the pillow barrier you'd erected.

You decide you won't open your eyes anymore as you lie on your right side, facing the door. That doesn't last long as images of Jennie and Soonyoung doing shots play across your mind, frame by frame all thanks to the insta stories you'd rewatched about 50 times despite not wanting to see them at all. You couldn't stop yourself.

"I'll make it up to you!"

You aren't sure how she's gonna rebound from this glorious fuck up, but you hope she does. You still hope there's a missing piece to this story.

***

You managed to pull yourself up for your 9 AM meeting, getting ready while Joshua slept. He wakes up before you leave though, force-feeding you cereal for breakfast when he found out you were about to leave for your day with an empty stomach. He hugs you goodbye at the door, knowing well enough he'll be passing out again once the door closes. You love him for sacrificing his precious z's for your sake.

The meeting goes well and you have lunch with the other T.A. before deciding it's time you go back home. You were dreading it, but it was late afternoon and you really wanted to take a nap. So you walk to the campus cafe and grab yourself a coffee. You realize you ordered two out of habit but figured Jennie would need it for whatever demons she'd be fighting post-hangover.

With that thought you questioned whether you should be confronting her at all in this state. So, for your own sake and hers, you decide you'd put it off until tomorrow. But that was as far as you were pushing it. Just because your head was clearer than it was last night doesn't mean the problems had diffused with it, this was only a deadline you were setting for yourself.

Not sure what you were expecting when you walked in through that door, incessant banging was not what you would’ve guessed to be happening at 3PM. For a wild half a minute you’re frozen in the doorway, slightly mortified that you may have walked into Jennie and Soonyoung during their activities. But as you try to tiptoe past the hallway to put your stuff in the kitchen you look over to see a disheveled Jennie slamming her fist onto your bedroom door repeatedly.

This looks like the same Jennie, a mirror of you after your endless nights at wretched house parties. The ones where you both would drink yourselves to death, only to wake up wanting to scoop your brains out. If you weren’t sure of what she’d done before this, now you definitely did.

It wasn’t an awkward walk-in, but it may have been worse as you notice your handle broken off the door, sitting on the floor.

It takes you a second to register what you’re seeing.

“Jennie? JENNIE?”

She finally looks over to the sound of your voice, visibly agitated, looking like she just rolled out of bed. You rush to put your things down on the table before entering the hall she was standing in.

“You were out? You were out this whole time?” Her face is still slightly puffy, her glasses in, and her hair looking like a rat’s nest. Her tone has a hint of accusation in it, and you feel a twinge of annoyance spring in the back of your mind as you hear it.

“Yes? Why are you banging on my door, did you break the handle?” You ask incredulously.

“Because your door was fucking locked?”, she retorts like it was the most obvious answer for destroying your door.

“So you decide to, what, bust it down?”

“I needed painkillers, you didn’t tell me you were out, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Jennie, the painkillers are in the medicine cabinet in the kitchen, where they’ve always been.” You bend down swiftly to pick up your door handle. “And besides, I don’t need to tell you I was going out, I don’t know why you’d think I would.”

“How long have you been gone?”

Her tone is making your own head hurt.

“Since last night? Why does this matter” You’re getting properly angry now, and it’s not helping that she’s acting like she was wronged for whatever reason.

“Where were you?” She asks sharply.

“Why the fuck-”

“Do not tell me you were over at Joshua’s?” She asks you, stepping back like she was in disbelief. Like she had been betrayed or something.

There was a fire raging inside you by then, your vision flexing for a second before you regained composure, quite literally holding back a punch.

“Seriously, I told you to stop hanging out with that guy, he looks at me so weird he knows I have a boyfriend” She’s speaking very loudly, and the sound is reverberating inside your head like a gong. You want to shut her up so bad.

Instead of giving in to your urge to fully swing, you opt to take a couple breaths to control your racing heart and mind. You cannot let her get into your head.

“Where were you last night, Jennie?”

Your question sounds innocent, but there’s venom laced in your tone. There was a threat looming, and you know she could feel it all of a sudden too. Her expression changes slightly, and there’s a hint of the face she had shown you when she told you the same thing last night;

“The dance studio, I told you! Choreography, comp season? My boyfriend? He’s on the dance team if you weren’t aware” She’s mocking you, trying to cover up a lie.

“Why the headache, then? And rolling out of bed at this hour?” You’re asking her simple questions, partly because those are all you can muster (other than a string of the worst profanities your 11th-grade art teacher graciously taught you). But mostly because you’re trying to give her an opening. You want her to tell you the truth before spitting it on her face by yourself.

“We drank at some bar down a couple blocks, the both of us. Yes, I have a hangover, stop asking me questions”

You’re silent for a little bit. She thinks she won.

“Jennie, do you really think I’m stupid?” It’s a quiet voice that comes out directly from your chest, it’s shaky. Is it hurt or anger? You can’t decide, maybe both.

“What, you think I’m lying?” She says, barking out a blistering, heated laugh.

For a second, you think you might have been mistaken. Her certainty was unwavering, almost testing your audacity. Even when you’re so sure of yourself, there’s still a part of you that wants to believe her, so fucking bad.

“Comp season ended last week” It’s a declarative statement, one that you can’t take away.

Her face changes again. For the first time since this fight started, Jennie looks unsure of herself.

“Comp season ended last week, Jennie” You repeat, “And last night was the end-of-season party”

You blatantly look at her up and down before adding “, if you needed your memory jogged”

Rendered speechless, you can see the gears turning in her head as she figures out what to say.

“I don’t know why you lied, to go to the same fucking party, with the same fucking people, that we both go to all the fucking time”

“Y/n-”

“No, Jennie, I’ve had enough. You’ve been blowing me off for literally fucking everything for the past fucking year or something, did you get a boyfriend and decide to let it inflate your head?”

You’re yelling, loudly.

“How do I know what else you’ve been lying to my face about? When you can spit borderline folklore out of your mouth like its fucking nothing, that’s not a flex that’s psychopathic!”

Your breathing is heavy, so heavy.

“How do you do it? Because I wanna know. How do you lie so easily? To think you’d spare me at the very least. I cared for and trusted you enough to put my heart into your hands, I let you lie to me about the stupidest things and it’s me I should be blaming because what the fuck was wrong with me? To let you, literally manipulate me like this. Every fucking day it feels like.”

There’re tears running down your face, as you scream at her.

“And don’t you dare say I’m the one overreacting, because you know about the shit you’ve been pulling. To the disrespect, to the manipulation, to every single time you’ve treated me like I was your fucking sidekick or something. I’m so beyond sick of it. I wanted you to tell me the truth right now, but you chose to continue to lie and make me feel guilty about something that’s not even my fucking fault. Because you’re weak. You need to make everyone feel inferior so you can put yourself up on that pedestal you’ve made out of other people’s dignity. And honestly, it’s a really ugly look on you”

You turn around and run your hands through your hair, rubbing the tears off your face harshly in an attempt to calm yourself.

“I put you before everything. Before my own feelings, my own comfort. Because the last thing I wanted was for you to be hurt about anything. I kneeled after every horrible thing you’d say or do because no matter how much it hurt me, I couldn’t stay mad at you. Because sisters always forgive each other. I treated you like family.”

You stop, choosing to not go further before you have a proper meltdown in the hallway, all for her to just keep looking at you, blank and silent.

Hearing the click of a door opening on the other side of the house, in the other disconnected hallway, you look behind to see a half-asleep Soonyoung walk out dazed and confused.

Of course he was here.

You look back to see Jennie with the same neutral expression, incessantly avoiding your gaze.

You don’t walk inside your room until she’s finally made eye contact, to which you realize you had thrown the purest look of disgust and disappointment.

You’d flopped onto your bed, adrenaline slow to recede as you take time to register what just happened. And when you do, to your utter shock, you felt good. It was like a weight you’d been holding on to for a lifetime was thrown across the universe, never to be felt again. You felt good, giving Jennie everything you know she was long overdue for. You don’t know what the next step is going to possibly be for both of you, if she finds it within herself to apologize - or not, you don’t really care right now.

For now, you send the group chat a very, very long voice message.

After which you took a fat nap because lashing out at lifelong friends was exhausting.

***

You barely see Jennie in the next few weeks. Occasional passes in the kitchen to which she turns around and walks right back out when she sees you there. Not a word is spoken between you, and you know she’s uncomfortable.

You, however, are completely fine. Really, you didn’t care at all, which was surprising to both you and your friends. You lived as you did; worked, read, hung out with your friends, everything as usual. The only difference was that there was less Jennie around, and despite the very gaping hole in your routine, you didn’t feel incomplete or empty.

Both Alyssa and Joshua demanded a play-by-play recap of the entire thing, the same night you had woken up from your nap to a bombarding of messages in the group chat. You’d met them that night and given them what they asked for, and they were surprised to find you fairly nonchalant.

Neither you nor your friends were too sure what these few weeks of silence meant, at least in terms of what was going on in her head. If you didn’t know better, you’d be back to normal already, because you would’ve approached her with an apology or a neutral consensus. To which you would’ve received a half-assed sorry in return, right before she went back to her usual antics. She’s waiting for you to break the silence because she still thinks this is something she can brush over. Jennie, as smart as she is, will soon realize she’s gravely mistaken and that you weren’t folding anytime soon.

“I think you should move out,” Alyssa says, poking at a piece of chicken in her overpriced rice bowl. “I would’ve had you gone the day it happened, honestly”

It wasn’t a thought you hadn’t considered, but you were giving it time to marinate.

“If there’s anyone moving out, it’s her. It’s my name on the lease, I’m not giving up that place” You grumble.

She sighs in response, glitter in her eyes as she puts her chin in both hands on the table.

“They grow up so fast. If someone told me, you’d even fathom kicking Jennie out of the apartment I would’ve sent them on their way with prayers and a hospital business card”

You snort in response, “I’ll bring it up to her the next time I see her. God knows where she is more than half the time”

“I saw her sitting with Soonyoung’s friends outside the tennis court yesterday. And she was, studying in the library the week before. Thought she hated the entire lot of his friends, it’s funny how she’s changed her mind”

You took Alyssa’s advice and had gone home to knock on Jennie’s bedroom door.

“Can we talk in the living room” You had asked plainly.

She was quiet other than a “yeah, sure” as she followed you to the couch.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to move out. I don’t think it’s best for us to be in each other’s spaces right now, and it’s my name on the lease so it’s easier on both of us if you find another apartment.” The words were coming out blunt, wanting nothing but to be over this.

She looks a little taken aback. “What?”

“You can take your time, obviously. But don’t bother paying for this month if you end up moving sooner.”

“Is that it?”

“Yeah”

“Cool”

She gets up and leaves, exhaling louder than usual in what you think may be a frustrated sigh. You move over it though; you did what you had to do.

***

When the receptionist tells you there’s someone waiting for you, you think its Joshua picking you up from your T.A. job to go pick up lunch. You wonder why he didn’t just text you, but you grab your purse and leave nonetheless, excited for a break. What you don’t expect is, no waiting Joshua but a Kwon Soonyoung who’s waving you down as he sees you come out.

“Hey”

“Hi” you reply awkwardly, waiting for an explanation for the visit.

“I know this is really random but, can we talk? It’s about Jennie”

So here you are, at a cafe close to your department, sitting across from Soonyoung who’s beginning to give you context.

“I heard a lot of what happened that day you guys fought, it sounded pretty serious and I didn’t mean to walk in on you guys like that but I was so hungover I wasn’t thinking straight” He looks like he’s cringing at the memory, playing with the rings on his finger. You count a plethora of earrings adorning his ears too, never noticing how many piercings he had before this.

“She reassured me it was a common occurrence you both would be fine in the morning - a couple days max.” He glances up at you before stirring his drink with his straw, “That didn’t happen, obviously. She won’t tell me the entirety of the problem but I know that whatever it is, it’s pretty big.”

He’s silent for a moment while he tries to formulate his next words, he’s being careful about what he says.

“She told me that you asked her to move out, which I get, totally. But she was pretty upset because she thought you were going to apologize”

You pause mid-sip before looking up at him, “She thought what?”

“That- you were going to apologize. Listen, I don’t know what happened, I don’t know who’s in the wrong it could be the both of you or it could be neither, but that isn’t the point. All I’m here to ask you is to please try to talk to her. She’s refusing to listen to me and she won’t tell me what going on either. Her mood is all over the place, it’s affecting the people around her. She doesn’t know how to deal with the situation other than responding to everything with abrasion, and I think that’s only going to stop if whatever’s going on between you is solved”

He finishes with a sigh. You take a good look at him and conclude that he’s probably tired of his girlfriend’s antics and is desperate for a way to help himself. He probably feels a little guilty too, like he’s trying to change her

You weigh your options within 10 seconds; should you tell him or not? There’s a snitch inside of you that’s aching to ruin whatever relationship Jennie had with the man in front of you because, in a way, that very relationship was what lead to the downfall of your friendship. You’re quick to slap that thought away, this was all Jennie’s fault, not his. Unless he was feeding her with lies too, you found no reason to hold any grudges against this man. A cruel part of you quips that he may be a poor, tortured soul too, forced into her clutches. You don’t doubt that she may be lying to him about multiple things too, but you can’t assume.

Regardless, seeing Soonyoung this tame? Calm? Not surrounded by people? Was a little strange for you. He was quite the campus socialite, what you would describe as fuckboy behaviour, except he was in a committed relationship and generally quite respectful from what you’ve seen. It might be because you’ve mainly only ever seen him under alcoholic influence that’s made this image of a loud, party animal in your head. He was friendly enough, there was no reason for people to not wanna be his friend.

Deciding to not be a menace, you don’t tell him the details about what happened. Never trusting Jennie’s storytelling skills, you can’t be sure what she’s told him or will tell him in the future, and you want to know what timeline she lays out for all of this. It wouldn’t be long, while you were picky with what people you told your problems about, Jennie was an open book.

“Soonyoung, listen. I’ve known Jennie almost my entire life, and every conversation I’ve had with her takes us nowhere but back to square one. You can do the math on that, but I think, after so long, it’s fair for me to feel tired of being the person taking the initiative all the time. I understand how you feel because I know Jennie, but I’m sorry, I won’t be the one bringing up this conversation with her”

His shoulders slump a little, his expression slightly defeated.

“It’s that bad?” He asks quietly, voice strained.

You nod slightly, grimacing.

“Not that I think you’re gonna tell me, but, what did happen between you two? I just heard the screaming bits, but they didn’t really give anything away.” Before you can reply he’s quick to add, “I don’t want you to think I’m asking because I want tea or whatever, I just, want context so I can maybe help her”

You feel bad for him, because he genuinely sounds so helpless, and you consider maybe telling him. Before you can backtrack, he’s looking up at you with swimming eyes. You’re heart stops for a second, watching him as you realize he’s unraveling, just like you were not too long ago. And for seemingly the same reasons too. There’s a tug in your heart as you realize you pity him, and he’s probably sick of being left in the dark and yet having to deal with the unsolicited side effects.

And that’s when you do another thing in the past month that is so unlike yourself, you told Soonyoung everything.

The conversation had gone fine, he listened to you as you spoke, telling him about context and conversations that ultimately lead to your fallout.

He had reassured you he had no idea about how his presence was indirectly affecting your friendship, and you were solid to voice that he had nothing to worry about if he hadn’t done anything to purposefully pull her away.

Everything he said, you took with a grain of salt. He was still Jennie’s boyfriend and could be convincing himself that you’re lying for all you know. There was no blame coming onto him for being on his girlfriend’s side. An instinctual, observant part of you was telling you that he didn’t think you were entirely wrong.

You weren’t worried though, Jennie could tell him whatever she wanted, but you already told your truth. No matter who he chose to believe, he’d figure out what the problems were eventually. Just like you did.

Soonyoung had insisted to pay for your coffee in return for taking up your time and allowing you both to leave not too long after wrapping up your brief feelings about the situation.

You don’t think too much of his limited response, it’s a lot to dump on him about his girlfriend, from her supposed best friend. But once again, you’re beyond the point of caring anymore.

***

“Nice, nice!” You hear Seungkwan yell as you send the ball back over to his side. Never really interested in the sport, you had allowed him to rope you in for a first experience on the volleyball court.

“To blow off some steam,” he said.

He was informed about the fight you and Jennie had, not that he knew the details, nor did he pry too much. Noting that you were becoming slightly more agitated as the days passed, he decided to force you, Alyssa, and Joshua, to the court to help you sweat some of the frustration off.

Joshua and Seungkwan were fine, better than fine seeing as they were both actually on the university’s team. You and Alyssa got by, learning the ropes as you go and trying not to break a finger or a nail. Or a nose, for that matter, considering the velocity of some of the serves Seungkwan was sending to your side of the court.

“Pretend your Miya Atsumu or something, just slam as hard as you can”

You were trying, but you don’t think he fully understood that you could be pooped only 40 minutes in.

“Look at you, Y/n, skin glowing, hair flowing. I told you this would be good for you”

That glow was sweat, and that flow was more so a euphemism for the bird’s nest that had become of your hair, looking overall disheveled and doubled over, trying to catch your breath.

You snap your head up to give Seungkwan a look of disbelief across the court, prompting all three of them to laugh at the irony.

But you had to admit, the past month and a half’s worth of slight irritants were slowly getting to you, and you needed some good physical activity and quality time to get back on track. Jennie still hadn’t moved out, telling you she needed more time to look for apartments. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that told you she hadn’t looked for anything at all.

You didn’t see Soonyoung after that day at the cafe a few days ago, not expecting to hear so soon from him either.

What you also weren’t expecting was Jennie to barge into the volleyball court, stomping her way over to you.

It takes a moment for you to react, seeing her come at you with such belligerence, heck just the fact this was her most intense interaction within a month and a half was a little more than just offputting.

“You”

She’s talking to me?

Jennie confirms that yes, you, meant you in specific as she bring an angry finger pointed at you in accusation, as she slams her feet across the court to where you are.

You realize too late that her other raised arm was in an effort to land on you too, physically this time.

You’re lucky you have friends with less dusty processing chips when you see Alyssa grab her arm to stop her from doing something rash. You still haven’t moved a muscle.

Jennie shoves Alyssa off, gaze never leaving yours.

“You’ve got balls coming for me when you’ve been prancing around arm in arm with my boyfriend?”

“What are you-”

“My turn to say, ‘did you think I wasn’t gonna find out?’”, she says, smiling in mock pleasantness. “Little birdie told me you’ve been meeting up with him for weeks behind my back. Fucking him? Touching him? What belongs to me? And he fessed up to all of it so don’t even try acting all innocent you swine-”

“Jennie, that’s enough” Joshua’s voice comes from behind.

Your start talking before she can retort him with another ghastly insult.

“Nice to know you’re believing whatever comes out of anyone’s mouth just to victimize yourself, again”

She might as well have slapped you with the look she gives you.

“Believe whatever you want Jennie, I spoke to Soonyoung once during this entire thing and it was the bleakest conversation I’ve ever had”

“Care to explain the pictures I have of you both going on fucking coffee dates?” She’s borderline screeching in your ear at this point.

You can’t tell if she’s bluffing.

“Back to that one conversation I had with him. Lasted maybe 20 minutes over a coffee neither of us finished. So if your done deluding yourself into thinking the world has it in for you because your just that precious, wake the fuck up. You’re not special, nobody’s trying to steal your man, fucking keep him”

Your voice is quiet and calm, but there’s an edge you willingly bring into your words. You want her gone for real now.

She huffs again before stalking back out, and into the arms of another girl, Minji, you recognize from the pictures. This girl you’ve never spoken to before turns around to throw you the nastiest glare before ushering both of them out.

The aftermath of that included another serve session where you actually did slam the balls as hard as you could, Seungkwan was right, you did still have some unguided juice left.

Speaking of Seungkwan, you spared the poor boy’s confusion by finally giving him the details he’d been holding back from asking. His reactions lightened your mood though, the comments and the expressions. You guessed this was you trusting him now.

That was 5 people who knew about the fiasco, Minji too by the looks of it, so make that 6. More, if Jennie had decided to tell more people.

But what was on your mind, as you yourself was about to make a stalking entrance into another venue, was whatever the fuck Soonyoung told Jennie for it to have a repercussion like this.

You were angry at yourself for telling him everything, thinking that it was what had caused another problem to arise.

When you walk past the empty floor of the dance studios to open any one that wasn’t locked, you were lucky to find Soonyoung alone in one of them, dancing to some low tone rap blaring from the speakers. He notices you immediately, moving to stop the music and acknowledge your presence.

“What did you tell Jennie?” You ask him clearly.

“Could ask you the same thing” His face is stoic, he’s not very happy at all you notice.

“What?”

“Meeting at your place when she’s not there? Seriously, Y/n? Why are you roping me into your bullshit, when did I ever hang out with you alone before last week?!”

“Are you saying I told Jennie that?”

“Apparently! Because she broke up with me thinking I’ve been cheating on her this entire time. With you!” He announces loudly.

You realize what’s happening immediately, Jennie was trying to fix the mess she’d put herself in. By lying.

“Really? Because she’s told me that you admitted to meeting me all the time too.” You deadpan, hoping he’d realize you’d both been lied to.

“I never said that” he says, face contorted to incredulousness.

“That’s what I was told, though”

“You two best friends are the same, this entire fucking time I’ve been around you it’s been misery and problems and bullshit I’ve never asked for” He bellows, turning around, massaging his temples like he has a headache.

“You think I actually said that? Are you not seeing the problem here? We’ve both been lied to, Soonyoung” You move closer to him, like the proximity would help him absorb the point that’s flying way over his head in the midst of his anger.

“Oh please, cut the shit, I’ve had it! You both have a manipulating problem you need to fix. You’re not special, wake up.” He’s screaming in your face now, a raging monologue ripping.

Those three words, the same ones you said to Jennie not even an hour ago, were spat back at your own face. And with what it entailed for you, you acted before you could think.

The slap you sent across Kwon Soonyoung’s face sent a reverberating sound across the dance studio.

He looks up, eyes bloodshot and swimming with fury. There’s a hint of a smile on his face for some reason, which you realize may be out of disbelief.

You don’t register anything else other than the rage that accelerates down your own veins. There’s a part of you that wants to do it again when he utters his next words.

“That was a bad fucking idea”

“Was it? I could tell you the same thing. You’re stupid enough to be manipulated again by the same manipulator you just left behind, that’s pathetic Soonyoung”

It’s beyond you why you’re having to explain all if this to him like a child.

“Was anything I told you that day make its way into your head? At all? The reason this entire situation with her and I even happened was because of Jennie and her lies. The way she twists the truth and pits people against each other for the sake of looking like the innocent one. Get that through your thick skull before you start throwing accusations around. If we both can understand that she lied about what you said, what makes you think anything else that she said was true?”

There’s a heavy feeling in the glares you’re sending each other. Neither of you are okay, both of you betrayed. He’s breathing heavily but his face is less contorted. He’s evaluating. He’s finding reason in your words.

You back down from this emotional staring contest first, tired of being angry about something regarding Jennie - again.

“I’m sorry about hitting you like that, you just- you said something else that kinda triggered me, but I shouldn’t have reacted that way”

“It’s whatever I guess” He grumbled in response.

“I hope you’ll think about what I’ve said. We’re both pretty upset right now, I think we need to give it some time” You were taking a leaf out Joshua’s book and giving yourselves time to diffuse.

“Yeah, okay that’s fine”

And with that you turn around to leave him standing in the middle of the empty studio, with another plethora of thoughts at his front door.

***

The next time you see Soonyoung is when you invite him over to your place for the first time, knowing the connotations that could bring with recent progressions. But it needed to be done. As much as you would’ve rather spoken from a distance that’s brought with public seating, it was another risk of another angry barge in. You both had had enough of those.

Besides, Jennie was quick to move out after the last altercation, realizing finally that you weren’t about to back down to any moves she tries to make. No word from her since. It felt like eternal peace at last.

As much as you wished you could leave everything that happened between you and Soonyoung behind, there was too much sensitive content that was aired for it to rendered resolved from that last angry face off in the studio. So you decided the safety of your home was the best bet you had for privacy to do what needed to be done.

You also decided dinner wouldn’t hurt, you made a mean pesto salad, everybody likes pesto. And pasta for that matter. The kimchi fried rice along with it would be a weird combo but you decided to throw it on the table anyway, everybody likes rice too.

You were briefly wondering if this was okay for a dancer to eat, you’d heard about carbs being problematic for high tension sport or whatever - was dance a sport? It has to be with the amount these people have to move-

You're cut off by the sharp sound of your front door ringing. No going back now, you opened the door to let Soonyoung in.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, no, I’m okay, thanks” he says as he seats himself on the couch.

The silence is awkward as it fills the rooms, neither of you knowing how to approach the topic without sounding too head on.

You brought him here, so you decide to break the ice first.

“What’re you’re thoughts about, that, now?” You start meekly, trying to make it sound as less abrasive as you can.

“I mean, I had time to think about it, obviously. And I had to really sit back and rethink our entire relationship and I’m a little put off by how I didn’t figure out what was happening myself. There were, so many signs, so many red flags.”

He’s rubbing his face with his hands,you notice a little silver ring on his pinky finger. “None of my friends liked her, I don’t know if you knew. They wouldn’t mention anything about it in front of you ever, for obvious reasons”

You recall Joshua telling you the same thing, the night before the big fight.

“I couldn’t understand why they were so hostile towards her but- but I see it now. I know love can be blinding sometimes but, this really was another level” He lets out a sad laugh.

“But yeah, another one of my friends told me Jennie’s been going around telling people variations of the same cheating story to everyone. None of them are matching the other, I doubt she even remembers what she’s said or who she’s said it to”

He looks up at you when he says that, in acknowledgment of what you’ve been trying to tell him this entire time.

“But after everything that’s happened, I think I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for lashing out at you when the truth was right there. That slap was deserved.” He smiles a little at the end.

“It’s alright, but I totally got why you’d believe Jennie though. She’s - was - your girlfriend, her words are bound to be more credible than mine. I just didn’t think it’d go this far. And please don’t say what I did was deserved, we’re not animals I don’t know why I let my frustrations out that way.” You were speaking the truth, under the hope that he too was also not lying to you.

“I don’t think this’ll be the end of it though. I doubt she’s going to stop lying to everyone about what happened anytime soon. If this keeps up…” He trails off a little.

His reputation was a lot more prominent than yours, and everything that was supporting it may be going into flames right in front of him.

“I’m scared her crap is gonna reach management or something and that’s when it gets even more problematic. Stuff like this always snowballs and…” He’s trailing off again.

“It’s okay, nothing’s coming out from this space” you attempt to reassure him.

He chews on his lip for a minute, elbows on knees, “I know from experiences lesser than this that have roped me into trouble, whether I was at fault or not, that it’s going to affect me somehow. This is a lot bigger, and knowing that this is going to escalate as more people talk, I’m scared I’m gonna get a call”

“Like, they’re not gonna kick you out of the dance team for some rumor, right?”

His hat is off as he runs a hand through his dark locks, “They could, we compete at a professional level. And rep counts. I’m pretty involved with the team with kind of everything, that can’t look good if I’m an apparent asshole”

There’s a very defeated look on his face, a prospect of his entire future possibly falling apart. You realize how deep this goes for him, and how this might affect for years to come. All for a rumor somebody he trusted made about him to save their own ass.

Considering your positions, you may be the only person who can understand his predicament.

“And if they try to push me about something, they might bother you too. You have a T.A job, right?”

You hadn’t even thought about your own job, you were quite dependent on it and with an entire apartment’s worth of rent now heavy on your pockets, you couldn’t afford to lose this job.

Your head was racing with that realization, but you could only manage a small “Oh”.

“What do you think we should do?” you ask dumbly, not having any ideas of your own. This was going beyond what you wanted to happen, this was supposed to end at two people.

“I have no idea” He’s agitated, you can tell because he’s been moving and shifting so much. He’s throwing his head right now, eyes closed, heel tapping on the floor. He reigns himself back in and opens his eyes, reluctantly it feels like.

“Our best bet right now is to trust that people won’t listen to her, majority of our friends dislike her, but I can’t be sure other people feel the same. I have hope that our friends will exercise common sense, and irrational dislike I guess, and not take her word for things”

“No, you’re right. Other people are gonna believe her in a heartbeat I’ve seen how people are when it comes to her” You’re picking at the skin of your palms as you speak, mind trailing to the plethora of people who would try to get to Jennie through you.

“Maybe get to them first. Maybe not management but, people on the team who could vouch for you if need be. But I don’t think you need to do that for them to believe you, people only have nice things to say about you, and with the general off-ness around Jennie I do think they’ll believe you” You voice your thoughts, dry mouthed but trying to sound supportive.

“I mean, I hope it doesn’t get to that point. It really shouldn’t, anyway.” You quip once more.

He’s listening to you, nodding his head but his expression tells you that he’s far away. The last thing you want is for him to start spiraling so you suggest the first possible solution that pops in your head.

“Do you want a drink?”

Some would say that was a bad idea, considering his very popular tendency for not being able to hold his liquor. But you had your reasons and it paid off after a couple wines.

It was a weird spread on the table, leftover fried rice and a pesto salad you’d made earlier, add to the cheap supermarket wine you were drinking in water glasses, you look like you were in some relatable Netflix show.

Whatever the predicament was, you weren’t complaining because you’d both had your nerves calmed and stomachs fed. The conversation following was light and friendlier than any conversation you remember ever having with him. He spoke in more detail about his dance stuff, how comp season came back with a win for them, how his teammates are his best friends.

He tended to start talking like a child when he was tipsy, to be fair that could just be the passion coming out in that way, but it was endearing regardless.

He asked about your T.A. job and realized he might have you for next semester, “if I remember my semester plan right”.

“That’s great! You can help me; I suck at stuff like that” he grumbled as you reassured him he’d be in safe hands with the professor alone. You were just extra help.

“Oh, I did that module in my first year!” you exclaim, as he spoke about another horrible midterm that was coming up for him. “I could help you with it if you want. Pretty sure I have my notes stashed somewhere”

“Did you have Professor Choi, too?”

“Yes! I did. You need to read the textbook more than the lecture slides when it comes to her, her tests are impossible without it”

“No wonder, that earlier test was talking about shit I’d never seen before”

You had gone to bed that night feeling so much lighter regarding the whole matter. It felt good to have Soonyoung who was willing to be on your side for this. Of course, your friends would always be with you and they still were, but having someone who’s going through the same thing as you sets it apart. You go to sleep that night feeling grateful for whatever help the universe was giving you.

***

Something in the air had shifted that night and you found yourself in Soonyoung’s company more than you had initially planned. You were sitting at a barbecue place with your friends, Soonyoung was there too.

He’s had a little too much to drink, again, as he leans on Mingyu’s chest after crying his heart out to some song that ignited a sentimental fire in him. It’s all good not even five minutes later as he’s back to standing on his chair to make a toast to every last person on the table.

“Seungkwan!” he’s tearing up a little now, “I fucking love you, man”

Sengkwan’s trying to humor him, a little grimace on his face at his obvious wasted state. He’s joking though. Mostly.

“I wanna be your ball boy for life, throw all the fucking balls you want at me I’ll pick all of them up for you. I want you to judge all my choreos for the rest of my life. I don’t got a girl to do that for me anymore” Everybody on the table erupts into laughter, Soonyoung included. They were all well informed on Jennie’s antics at this point and had enough choice words dedicated in her memory.

“Joshi!”

“Hoshi!” Joshua exclaims back.

“I’d date you if I was a girl, but I’m not, and that sucks, but it’s fine, I’m more than happy to be your friend”

Mingyu’s tugging him to sit down at this point, his voice getting noticeably louder by the second. He throws his head back as he swallows the shot in hand in honor of Joshua, and you take sip of your own drink.

“Y/n!” He screams when he’s done. You can’t imagine what he could possibly have to say about you.

“Life fucking sucks” He deadpans, and you can’t help but quip.

“Hear, hear!”

Another eruption of chortles from the group.

“But you handle it beautifully, which is something you've taught me better than anyone. I’d let you slap me again if I was being a dumb bitch, if only you’d let me be a sassy asshole in return”

He’s making no sense, no doubt muddled in his thoughts. Everybody drinks to that regardless, and you watch as he throws his own head back only to sputter violently as he comes round.

Mingyu had replaced his shot with water.

***

Alyssa had crashed at your place that night and said multiple things you would like to owe to her drunken stupor.

One particular instance was when she was trying to glue back the lamp she’d bumped into and shattered. It was futile, but she was wasted enough to convince herself it was as easy to fix as impromptu Tetris.

You let her be, opting to stare at the ceiling lying next to her on the floor.

“Do you think you could date Soonyoung” she mumbles, fiddling with a piece of plastic.

You were only slightly tipsy, but your reaction was still quite lukewarm considering the outburst you’d have had if she said it on any other day.

“It’s kinda complicated isn’t it. Imagine we do and everyone goes, ‘oh, we knew it they were in it for each other all along’” you’re waving your hands in the air as you say it, giggling at your own impersonation. “It’s not happening though. Man obviously has a type and I’m no Jennie”

“You did not just insinuate Jennie was prettier than you” Alyssa has her violent, confused and outraged expression on as she drops the pieces in her hand for dramatic effect.

“I mean she definitely carries herself better, charm is important” you say.

“Honey, please, anyone with a personality like that is immediately classified ugly as fuck” She retorts, her face contorting into more outrageous expressions she’d never be able to pull sober.

“Whatever, that’s not the point. I don’t like the guy anyway, can you imagine trying to handle all that after every drunk night?”

She ponders for a minute before adding slightly, “But he’s… he’s cute though. Hamster type”

You shift to face her directly and ask her the inevitable question, “Alyssa, do you like Soonyoung?”

“NO! Geez no, you may be ballsy enough to get on Jennie’s nasty side but I’m not, I’m not coming near her pieces. Besides, that cutie from my cultural psych class is onto me, I can feel it. His name’s Jeonghan, I might slip him my insta if he doesn’t do it within the next week” She’s smiling and tilting her head as she speaks about the boy from her class.

“Find me a couple cute ones too. Can’t be spending the rest of my life alone, can I?” You blow out, a little annoyed at your lack of action.

“Oh, you’ll be fine. Although, you should think about Soonyoung a little bit, keep the option open.” She notes the way your face changes, “I mean keep him last resort too, I guess, I don’t know, you’d be cute together”

“I’m not gonna go and date my best-” you stop yourself before you can refer to Jennie as your best friend,”- just no, it’s going to be weird I don’t wanna be known as someone who steals other people’s bitches”

“But you’re not stealing him? You never did. You barely spoke to him while he was dating that woman and you’re both more than detached from her now. Do whatever the fuck you want, you’re adults. Besides, people know about what happened, they’re on both your sides more than ever”

You think about what she says, she’s right, but that doesn’t matter in the end. Because you didn’t like Soonyoung like that. No point justifying a relationship that’s never going to happen.

You’re distracted from your pondering as the (incorrectly) glued masterpiece Alyssa was trying to build back falls apart once more, like it did not even an hour ago.

***

Squeaky shoes against the floors are still audible despite the roaring coming from the speaker. The last time you were in here, you’d left only after leaving a reasonably red handprint on the cheek of the person dancing in front of you.

You were dragged here by Seungkwan, claiming he didn’t want to sit though hours of choreography rectification with Soonyoung alone. Nothing better to do, you chose to grace yourself out of your rat hole and accompany him.

You had learned the dance by now.

Turn, hand out, drop down and twist the torso…

He’s monitoring himself in the mirror with an intensity that’s intimidating you even while seated away from his line of sight. Right in front of the mirrors with Seungkwan but his attention only moves when he’s done with the set.

“How about now?” He pants out between gulps of air as he pauses the music.

“The music’s really pang pang you know, but like, you’re general movement is too much like” Seungkwan’s trying to explain his vision but is losing his words.

“It’s a little too flowy for the music” you say, chin in hand trying to absorb what he’s trying to say.

He claps his hands and points, “Flowy, that’s what”

“There’s a lot of dramatic moves, maybe that’s why it feels that way? Tone down the drops and turns, maybe?” You add, trying to be more helpful than just throwing out a criticism.

He’s making familiar movements in the mirror listening to your words.

“Yeah, that makes sense” He responds, “How’s this instead of this drop in the beginning?”

He asks and Seungkwan gets up to help with some movements of his own.

You watch them from your position on the floor, giggling at failed attempts and ‘woah’’s emitted from mildly impressive suggestions. Seungkwan pretends to be annoyed at these sessions but his effort to help is proving him otherwise.

Hoshi’s wearing something outside of his trendy jeans and shoes as he opts for the sweats and zip up look. He needs to be comfortable you guess, but there’s a part of you that wants to ask him where he got his pants from. They look good on him.

After a couple hours, another group of people from the team walk in for their allocated time with the studio so all three of you are forced out of your creative stride.

“They should get more studios I hate overenthusiastic juniors who do nothing but fool around for 3 hours” Soonyoung is mumbling in protest as you walk to the nearest convenience store for an odd time snack.

“Shouldn't somebody moderate them, then? Coach, captain, whoever” You ask as you rummage around the old freezer to find the ice cream you’re looking for.

“That’s not fair on the other juniors then, is it? They all work hard, there’s just a couple who think they’re on a constant field trip” He huffs, swatting your hand away and burrows for whatever it is that you can’t find. He comes up with a crushed pack, left desolate at the bottom of the freezer.

“No, it has nuts in it” you complain, “That was at the bottom too, shit’s prolly been in there since the ice age”

He huffs before trudging to find someone who could help with your ice cream predicament.

Seungkwan pops up behind you, arms full of instant ramen and sausages, as he starts rummaging through the freezer as well. He drops one of his sausage packets into the mango lollies and lets out a cry.

“They’re not here, Soonyoung went to ask” you say as he picks up a basket from behind him and dumps his load into it.

“These people have crutches and walking sticks at the ready but can’t ever stock up on their ice cream. It’s a university campus for the love of God, what student’s looking for crutches at midnight!?” He complains loudly.

Soonyoung is back from his heist at this point and brings the tragic news that they’re out of what you’re looking for. Both of you let out a solemn sound of disappointment and you opt for the creamsicle sitting on top of the pile instead. It’ll have to do.

You’re done with your ice cream before you dig into the bowl of ramen Seungkwan had very nicely made for you. You were getting princess treatment from everyone today, having the both of them run around as your personal errand boys. That doesn’t last for too long when Seungkwan barks at you to go get him a soda. You can’t complain when he mumbles about all the stuff he’s done for you.

The weather was nice outside, slightly cool but enough for you to enjoy your cheap thrills on the plastic set up outside the store. By the time you come back out, Seungkwan’s informing you that Alyssa and Joshua were coming here too, to which you set his coke down only to run back inside and get them stuff they’d like.

Alyssa is sniffling and wet faced as she sets herself next to you. You don’t notice until you see Joshua’s cautious eyes widening, trying to get you to acknowledge her sorrows.

You’re setting your feet down from their folded position once you do actually see the tear stains.

“What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

“I slipped Jeonghan my IG today…” She starts before taking a shaky breath.

Your stomach plummets in dread for what she might say next.

“He gave it back to me”

There it is.

“What do you mean he gave it back? Are you sure he didn’t think you dropped it?” You try to salvage the situation,

“NO!” She yells finally, tears now actively streaming down her face, “He read it. He read the fucking chit and gave it back to me like it was a piece of trash”

“That can’t be right, he likes you!” Soonyoung surprisingly adds. How did he know that?

“How do you know?” She says, “You sit like 4 rows ahead, how would you know?”

They were in the same class?

“Because I overheard him talking to his friends. I swear I did; he was talking about wanting to ask you out” He insists, he’s even dropped his chopsticks.

“Why would he give the note back then?” She asks, her voice suddenly small.

“How exactly did you give him the note?” Seungkwan asks.

“I crumpled it and kind of dropped it in his general area…?” She states cautiously.

You groan internally.

“Crumpled it? Seriously? Of course he was going to think it was trash who crumples it and then throws it on the floor?” You exasperate, not understanding how she thought it was a good idea.

“BUT-but, it’s embarrassing if I just hand him a note.” She grumbles at your outburst.

“Babe, you want him or nah?” Seungkwan deadpans, looking done with the whole situation.

“Yes? If it wasn’t obvious already-”

“You don’t want him bad enough” He declares and proceeds to shove the ice cream filled plastic spoon into his mouth, like it was nothing.

Alyssa stands up in an emotional rage, “What the fuck does that mean? I’m literally having an emotional meltdown over this guy and you’re telling me I don’t want him bad enough?”

The situation is honestly a little comical, with Alyssa’s tear stained, incredulous face as opposed to Seungkwan’s apparent nonchalance. You’re biting back a snort, but keep it in for your best friend’s sake. You’re understanding Seungkwan’s strategy, and you know it’s bound to work.

“Prove it then. Go up to him and tell him next week, after class. If you can, obviously, unless you’re too embarrassed”

“Fine!” She exclaims, “I’ll ask him out next Monday, and you owe me dinner if I do”

Seungkwan, sits up straight to put his hand on his heart in a solemn oath, “I, Boo Seungkwan, swear to you that I will buy you dinner if you can ask Jeonghan from your class out on a date”

“Your heart’s on the other side, dumbass” It’s Hoshi that quips that sentence to which Seungkwan proceeds to project his empty ice cream cup at him, only for it to land in his unfinished ramen.

***

“Do I mention skewness?” Hoshi asks you, looking up from his laptop and notes.

“Um, did you take out a z score?”

“Yeah, I did but does it apply here?”

“Can I see the sheet again?”

You’re sitting in the library helping Soonyoung with his coursework like you promised, piles of sheets and strewn pens decorate the table in the library as you help him do his work while you finished up some stuff of your own.

He had a final report due in 4 hours, not realizing it existed until this morning when one of his classmates texted him asking for help.

The frenzy he had called you in was enough to have you snapped back to attention from your deep sleep. The clock read 8 AM and you could’ve punched him through the phone as you registered his impeccable timing. But alas, you brushed your teeth and threw on your rattiest hoodie before trudging down to campus to help your damsel in distress.

It was only an introductory class, which may have been his saving grace. It was easy enough after an hour of explaining. You stayed after the fact, the anxiety he’s imbedded this morning had stuck with you, and you doubt you’d be calm until he actually makes his submission.

You’re catching up on notes as he types away, occasionally asking you a stray question to which you oblige.

This was a new feeling for you, not getting annoyed when somebody interrupts your focus. Every question he asked was met with you setting your devices aside and pulling in his own. You were helping him with more diligence than you’d do your own work.

You put it down to finally having someone who actually wanted to do work and not because they were spending time with you as an ulterior motive. Your timings would never match with Alyssa or Joshua or any of your friends too often, clashes were a story known all too well. Maybe it was the idea that Soonyoung was trusting you so much to help him for an ill choiced elective. You’d ponder over your lapse in usual behavior another time, you needed to figure out what to do with Soonyoung’s outliers first.

Soonyoung had walked out of that library and promptly fell to his knees at the end of the steps, arms in the air as he cried out in triumph.

“Oh, OXYGEN!”

You’re slower to clamber down the winding steps, snorting at his proclamation.

“I’m never doing that again” he huffs out, still looking relieved at the stars in the sky.

You pull him up from the sidewalk before he continues to embarrass the both of you; “Come on, you scholar, let’s get some food in your system.

He’s quick to jog up to you at the mention of food, having been running on coffee and adrenaline all day.

“And we’ll just have water with that” You confirm to the waitress, you both have enough caffeine in your system, and you don’t want to find out what happens when you add alcohol to the mix.

Soonyoung’s gone stagnant after the initial rush of freedom as he spaces out while you order. His face is enough indication of his exhaustion, shoulders slouched as he looks two seconds away from being slumped over on the greasy table. You want to run your hands through his hair, maybe let him get 20 minutes of shut eye as you wait for your food.

You’re not sure where you were in your train of thought as you realize there’s been a grave interference in your usual behavior; the second one you’ve realized today. You’re not sure why you could feel his head on your shoulder so vividly or feel his hair between your fingers like they were already planted there, threading through them, relaxing his scalp.

The sound of your drinks and plates being placed in front of snaps both you and Soonyoung out of your daze, a little embarrassed as you mumble out a “Thank you”

“If you’re going to talk to me, please make it utter garbage, I don’t wanna hear a single logical thing for at least a week” He announces before rubbing his face in his hands.

“Sleepy, huh?”

“After all that coffee? Fuck, no” He states, “I’m just mentally exhausted. I don’t like using my head too much”

You snort into your water as he says it; his face wasn’t helping, still looking utterly done with life.

“Where’s the goddamn food I’m hungry” He sticks a single chopstick into the pickled radish before solemnly sticking it into his mouth.

“You survived 6 hours; you can do with another couple minutes”

“What did I say about logic”

“Sorry” You laugh out as you watch the eyes roll to the back of his head.

Your eye catches the bottles of condiments on the end of the table next to the napkins and brochures.

“Were you shocked when you found out ketchup’s made with vinegar?”

“Ketchup’s made with vinegar?”

“Yeah, apparently”

“That’s icky” He concludes, brows still furrowed in disdain.

“Did you know there’s no blood in blood oranges?” He deadpans and you almost bust a blood vessel trying not to laugh. It was a horrible joke, if you could even classify it as one, but his delivery did it for you. Blank face, serious tone, disheveled aura.

You conclude that you’re both beyond exhausted and subsequently thank the universe for the food that finally rolls out on your table. It doesn’t take you long to wipe all your plates clean, minimal words being spoken as you work towards your goal of chewing and swallowing.

You leave the slowly crowding restaurant right before peak hours, suggesting a walk next to the river to clear your minds even further.

You know you should go home by now, but you don’t want the night to end. Besides, Soonyoung was quick to agree, wanting to walk off the overeating.

“I’m not sure how distasteful it is for me to bring this up, especially right after dinner” Soonyoung starts. He’s looking straight ahead as he walks next to you, expression casual. “But the more I hang out with you, the more I realize how you’re nothing like Jennie”

You knew that, but you want him to elaborate, “What makes you say that?”

“Like, personality wise. It’s hard to believe you were such good friends for so long despite being so different”

You’re nodding your head as you listen to him talk. A strange feeling of melancholy settles in your chest, and it weighs heavy on your heart.

“I guess, it’s different when you’ve known someone for so long” You respond to his observation. “Think of your own sister. I bet you wanna bury her 6 feet deep sometimes, she’s probably fucked up more times than you could possibly recount”

You’ve led him to sit on a bench overlooking the river, the streetlights’ reflection casting a glow on the water making it look less insidious.

“But…no matter how bad she fucks up. Your sister is you sister.”

“You really loved her, didn’t you?” He asks you the obvious question, but one that makes you wonder why it pierced you the way it did. He looks over to you, slumped down on the bench so he matches your height while sitting.

“I did. A lot. So did she. It’s just that I just cherished her more than she did me” You sigh, a grimace forming on your face as you voice the thoughts you’ve been keeping to yourself for what seems like your entire life. “I thought it was me being a good friend, but…”

“Recipe for disaster?” He suggests.

“Yeah” You breathe.

“As with any sort of relationship” He adds, he’s still looking at you.

“You know, one of the reasons I felt so betrayed was because I felt used. But when I think about how I clung to her despite everything, it makes me think whether I was using her too. That she was just as much of an instrument to me as I was to her”

“That’s not fair” Soonyoungs voice cuts quick, covered in ice. His face is a mask of apprehension. “That’s not fair to you at all”

“No, it makes me a bit of a hypocrite” The prospect pulls out a laugh from you, a miserable one from a dark part of your soul.

He’s silent for a moment and you watch his face morph into at least five versions of deep thought. His brows are furrowed, nose slightly scrunched, downturned mouth into a suggestion of a pout.

Despite the heaviness in your heart, there’s another warm feeling blooming in your chest as you note how hard he’s working his head to make you feel better about yourself. He could’ve left it with a regular word of comfort, especially after exhausting his cognitive abilities on statistics for the day.

Despite the conflict your own words have brought you, you can’t help but smile at the sight of him. For the second time that day you want to run your fingers through his hair, ease the crease in his brows. Make a joke about how he needs to rest after a day of academic weightlifting.

He speaks before you can pull his hood up to protect his pink ears from the cold.

“Finding solace in friendship isn’t using them, that’s kinda the point, is it not? To expect them to be there for you and have a place in their heart for you. The turnaround is to expect the same back. The problem was how Jennie was giving us the bare minimum, and our mistake was letting her do that. I don’t see any possible reason you could have major fault in this.”

He sits up straight and brings a leg up to rest on the bench, now fully turned to face you.

“Besides, you clinging to her for so long despite everything isn’t something you should beat yourself up about too much. Jennie was probably one of the only constant things in your life, if it was this hard to let go after only knowing her for, like, a year and a half, I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must’ve been for you. To let go of that one constant line that’s been with you through everything”

Soonyoung’s words are a breakthrough into the cage of remaining regrets you’d locked away. You were pretending to be okay for so long, and it was in this moment that you realized how not okay you truly were.

“Don’t push yourself to be okay,” It’s like he read your mind, “That’s what Mingyu told me anyway, and I think I’d rather feel the burn than lock it away. It was gonna blow up in my face at some point”

He’s smiling at the mention of his friend, and smiling at you, hoping you’d do the same. You do.

“What burns you on this pleasant night, Kwon Soonyoung?” You ask as you mimic his position, leg on the bench. You place your head on the back support, gazing up at him from there.

He ponders on your question for a minute.

“Jennie knows she’s pretty. She’s confident about it, but it’s also become her fatal flaw.”

You knew that.

“I’m…” He falters, “I don't like using the word, it sounds so conceited, but I guess I’m pretty well known around campus. I knew a lot of people and I guess that, in turn meant that they knew me too. One thing led to another and I was suddenly being called a party animal and whatnot, which is ironic because I cannot hold my liquor at all”

“I’ve noticed”

He giggles at that.

“The point I’m trying to make is that Jennie didn’t like me as much as she liked the idea of me. I think she wanted someone who could match her at a social level. I say this because I heard her this one time talking to you, something about a guy not matching her caliber or whatever”

You remember the conversation immediately, it was at another party where you were telling her about a mutual friend in one of your classes, asking if Jennie was single. She wasn’t, which should’ve been the end of the conversation.

“Kept droning on about how it was hilarious to think she’d let him be seen with her or some shit. I don’t know, I owed it to the alcohol but that should’ve been such a huge warning sign. That’s just one thing, there’s so much more to back this up, but I just hoped it was her way of joking around.

“I never really felt loved during the relationship, more like an accessory for her reputation or whatever it was that she was trying to prove. I guess it was all just too Hollywood-esque for me to believe it was actually happening. All of my friends hated how she kept handing me drinks when I was way past my limit, something about me not being fun while sober.”

“Your plenty fun while sober” You gruff.

He chortles at that.

“She didn’t think so. Whatever that relationship was it was built to benefit her more than anything else”

“Do you still think about her?” You ask carefully.

“I think…I think I’m passing the angry stage right now. Wondering why I let her do that to me”

“That stage never truly goes away. I still cringe at some of my older relationships, but I think you come to terms with it. Eventually”

He smiles at that, a dazed upturn. He’s looking at you but he’s somewhere else, not fully registering you as a unit. You wonder if you should try to bring him back to earth, but he snaps out of it himself as you shift to sit up.

He immediately jumps to his feet, letting out a yelp as he stretches his limbs.

“OKAY! Enough sulking, up, come on”

His hands clasp yours in a tight grip as he yanks you up from your seat before you can even register what he’s doing. An arm is slung around your shoulders as he pulls you away to continue walking on the path. The change in mood is sudden, but infectious as he begins to talk about the carnival that opened up somewhere nearby.

“There’s this shaved ice place I wanna try” he says as he tugs you, arm still tightly holding you by the neck.

“We just ate” There’s a strain in your voice as you smack his arm in a futile attempt to get him to loosen his grip.

“Always room for dessert. All that emotional talk burnt everything off anyway, I got room”

That’s how you end up taking pictures of Soonyoung in front of a setting sun, after he’s full of shaved ice and endless rounds of the claw game. He rage quit at his fifth try.

He drops you off home, not before thanking you for both helping him and lending a listening ear.

He wouldn't leave until you walked inside and sent him a text.

Once you're settled in your bed, ready to pass out, your phone dings at a notification.

[@ho5hi_kwon tagged you in a post]

It’s the pictures you took today, you realise as you swipe through the entire collection.

There’re pictures of your shaved ice bowls, a couple subsequent ones of you skipping down the boardwalk, a couple of the river and the illuminated Ferris wheel.

You keep flipping through them all with a stupid smile, vaguely aware that this looked sickeningly like a date.

You’re back to looking at the first photo of the collection, the one you took of him backlit by the sunset.

It’s a shot of his back as he looks over his shoulder, soft smile out to work. He isn’t looking directly at the camera, gaze directed to the person behind the shot. His loss of focus owed to your (unnecessary) hype commentary, something you did for all your friends while taking their pictures.

There's a knead in your stomach as you’re unable to tear away from his eyes. He looked beautiful.

Stay until the sunsets

The very apparent suggestions of the entire post, and now the caption, make you wonder if you’re alone in what you feel.

Setting your phone down on your chest, you opt to stare at the ceiling, needing a blank stimulus for your thoughts. You knew what all that turmoil in your stomach was about, and it had been brewing for a while.

Setting foot on the thought of a possible crush on your ex-best friend’s ex-boyfriend was enough to make you question if you had truly lost your mind.

***

It was the end of the semester, and you were itching to go out and do something after finals. The invitation text was enough for Alyssa to plop herself in front of your dresser to do her makeup while you sift through your wardrobe for an acceptable ensemble.

“How’s this?” You pull out a brown satin dress, holding it up to your frame for her to see.

Peering over her compact, she gives you a look. “Y/n, this is a party not a brunch date with Soonyoung”

That has you sputtering at the thought, “Brunch?”

“Yes. With Soonyoung” The haughty look on her face is taunting. And it’s working. “Don’t look at me like that, like you haven’t been having carnival dates with him”

You attempt to regain your posture, “I was helping him with work at the library”

“Didn’t know the library offers shaved ice and views from a dock”

“We went to the carnival later, he wanted shaved ice and we came right back home, it’s normal” You reason, shoving the dress back onto then clothing rod and sifting around for something else.

“Oh yes, and the candid pictures and suggestive captions are all very platonic. Silly me”

You only sigh in response, not wanting to start this conversation.

“What about this one?” It’s another earned scoff from Alyssa. She sets down her lash curler and walks over to your wardrobe, shunning you away.

“Go get started on your makeup, I’ll find something that’s not ‘mom’s summer day out’”

Ever since the topic was touched, it’s the only thing that’s on your mind. You were suddenly hyper aware of your relationship with Soonyoung, if Alyssa was getting the wrong idea, how many others were? What about Soonyoung, was he being pestered with the same questions? Would he start avoiding you if it gets too much? It’s the only natural course of action if he doesn’t feel the same way. Of course, he doesn’t feel the same way, you doubt he’d be quick to jump into anything after the dumpster fire that was his last relationship, let alone jump into anything with you.

There’s a yank at your chair as you’re dragged around, snapping out of your thoughts.

“What-”

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or not?” It’s Alyssa, stern and determined, who’s pulled you to face her at the edge of the bed.

The automatic response is to be defensive, but that quickly fades as you realize how tired you were about mulling over this alone. You drop your hands in defeat.

“I may like Soonyoung” You mumble, picking at your nails.

“Now was that so hard to admit?”

“Yes? Do I need to remind you-” You start.

“I know, I know” She stops you, “I get it”

Sigh in response, you want nothing more than to cut off whatever part of your brain landed you in this predicament.

“Do you really like him?” She asks carefully.

“No? Yes? I don’t know. I don’t even know if I should go to this stupid party, he’s gonna be there and it’s gonna make it worse. I need to get rid of whatever the fuck this feeling is and being around him isn’t gonna help”

“Nonsense, you’re going to this party. You owe it to yourself, don’t let what you think is wrong hold you back from having fun”

She moves to hold up a dress and a matching jacket.

“This with those boots you bought” She giggles, “Isn’t it cute?”

“Girl, have you been outside this past week, I'll melt in that”

“Oh please, you run cold anyway. You can lose the jacket when it gets warm and show off those smexy shoulders” She throws the ensemble on the bed runs out the room to find your shoes.

“Oh, you’re gonna have him hands and knees!" She yells from the hallway.

"I'm not wearing it if that's the goal"

"The goal" she drags, emerging into the room with tall boots in hand, "is to make you feel hot as fuck. The rest will unfold on its own"

You sit back down on your dresser and stare at the disarray that is your entire makeup collection.

"Do you need me to cake your face too?"

You're quick to deny as you try to find the primer bottle.

"Kay, I'm gonna do my hair. It's about to get loud"

Good, you thought. Maybe it'll drown out your thoughts. Maybe you need to stop thinking about him entirely, if he’s not in your thoughts he should move out of your heart too.

Failure is instantaneous as your phone dings and you find a text from the devil himself.

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: are you gonna be at Cheol's tonight?

[You]: yup I'll be there

[You]: I'm getting ready rn

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: What’re you wearing

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: I wanna match :(

Your phone is slammed onto the table as soon as you read the text.

He’s insane.

You vaguely register the blare of the hair dryer going silent, too focused on whatever that last text was.

“What? What is it? Did he text you? Why’d you hit the table?” A string of questions pour from Alyssa’s mouth as she walks over to you and picks up your phone to see what caused your explosive reaction.

“Are you seriously upset?! This is amazing! Tell him, oh my god”

You snatch the phone back from her vice grip, pointedly ignoring the elation on her face.

“Your hair looks like you got zapped, go fix it” You snap, trying to waive her off.

“Shut up, tell him! Actually wait no, tell him the colour and that’s it, can’t be too cooperative. He has to want you more before you start shimmying back”

The initial stagger of his sheer forwardness was now replaced by the urge to throttle your friend. She notices the exhausted expression.

“No, you’re not allowed to look at me like that when his name on your phone is - that” She retorts

“That was him!” You defend.

“Whatever! Just tell him the goddamn colour before I do it myself”

***

Your still warming up to the crowd as you talk to Seungkwan in the living room over a glass of whatever he handed you when you walked in. Alyssa waited no time to rally both him and Joshua to update them on your heartfelt matters, to which they were just as insufferable as the only other person you’d told.

Joshua and Alyssa had long disappeared finding other people in the crowd, promising they’d be back with updates.

What of, you guess you’ll find out.

“You're anxious, aren’t you?” Seungkwan asks, a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Can you blame me?” You sigh, leaning into the sofa, “Why couldn’t it have been literally anyone else?”

“You can’t control that, and Soonyoung’s a good guy, better than most of the assholes out for blood” He takes a sip from his cup, “You’re skeptical because of a previous situation and that's it. There’s nothing wrong with how you feel”

You don’t have chance to reply as you hear an all too familiar laugh tinkle in the midst of the chaos.

Seungkwan must’ve felt you stiffen, his hand immediately coming up to grab your arm in a attempt to ground you.

You can only close your eyes and breathe in another deep, deep sigh.

“You don’t care” Seungkwan affirms in your ear.

He’s right.

You don’t care.

Opening your eyes, you sit up a little straighter, choosing to ignore owner of the voice.

You’re not sure how, but you didn’t anticipate the fact that Jennie would be here too. Of course she would, everyone is here.

“I’m fine”

He could tell that you were. You felt proud of that.

“For the record, you look hotter than her”

You snort at the statment and his aggravated expression, assuming he saw her over your shoulder.

“Thanks, I guess”

“I’m serious, anyone’s ugly with a personality like that”

“Alyssa said the same thing”

“Alyssa’s smart”

“Should I call him and ask where he is?” you finally voice the urge that’s been circulating for the 30 minutes you’ve been here.

He begins to laugh at that before another thing catches his eye behind you.

“Don’t have to. He’s right there”

You turn around on instinct wish Seungkwan hadn’t seen him.

Soonyoung was mid confrontation with Jennie over the open kitchen island.

It looks like a serious conversation, neither of them looking like they’re having too much fun in each other’s company.

You aren’t sure if you’re deluding yourself into thinking they hate each other. For your own sake.

Soonyoung’s gaze wanders and locks directly with yours across the room. He stills for a second before removing his stare. He’s nodding to something Jennie is saying.

You can’t help but feel small at the sight. For some reason, it projected you back to before all of this happened. To when you and Jennie were still friends and she was still dating Soonyoung. It’s knives straight to your gut as you realise how similar this is becoming to a time you don’t want to return to.

The sight of them together is familiar.

And you hate it.

It makes you want to vomit all over the floor, halt whatever was happening and give you an excuse to go home and stay there forever.

You hate how good he looks, keeping to his promise to match with you. The black bomber jacket fits him well, sunglsses perched on his head despite it being past 8 PM. He’s taken the time and slicked his hair back today, and it suits him too well for you to look at him for too long.

You turn back to Seungkwan, and you’re expression must’ve alarmed him because he’s quick to pull you up to lead you to the outside patio.

You land on yet another couch, except this time it’s beside the pool where you can already see Mingyu trying to drown Joshua in the deep end.

“Y/n! Seungkwan! Hi!” Mingyu waves from the end, looking excited to see you.

You can’t help but smile at his bright greeting as you wave back.

Seungkwans snapping pictures of his bright smile as he simultaneously shoves Josh’s head into the water. It’s a funny sight, one that makes you feel better immediately.

“He’s not gonna go back to her” Seungkwan low tones in your ear.

You open your mouth and close it again.

“I know. It’s just-”

“A lot? I know, but he’s gone through hell because of that woman, I also know every second spent with her is one he’d rather be literally anywhere else. I also also know that you already knew that but I needed to make sure you understood that she is not a problem anymore”

You nod your head as you smile and lean into Seungkwan’s shoulder.

The sickening feeling hasn't gone away entirely, but you choose to turn your attention to how happy you feel with your friends.

Joshua’s somehow overtaken and is trying drown Mingyu instead, Seokmin’s in the corner shooting waterguns to help.

You notice Alyssa sitting on the double swing right across, talking to a blond haired individual. The lovesick smile that’s plastered on her face is enough to inform you that this must be Jeonghan.

Soonyoung steps out into the patio after a little bit, eyes searching.

You shoot up from Seungkwan’s shoulder at the sight of him, suddenly conscious about how your hair looks from the humidity.

As he plops down next to you, one arm over the headrest behind you and one between his parted legs, he lets out a loud sigh. You briefly wonder why he always looks like a different shade of exhausted every time you see him.

“She just apologized” He announces, head thrown back.

Both you and Seungkwan are suddenly sitting up at attention, giving each other a look before settling your eyes back on Soonyoung urging him to continue.

“What do you mean she apologized?” You breath in disbelief.

“I don’t know, something about how she realised her mistakes and whatnot” He rubs his face with his hands like he’s trying to rub away the image of her “She might come for you next, a warning I guess”

“Oh” is all you can say, still a little conflicted over what this could mean.

“I came here to have a good time and first thing I see when I walk in is her” He spits, “Whatever, I don’t care, I’m not thinking about it”

Seungkwan pushes over his drink to him, “I didn’t poison it, it’ll help”

He accepts the cup and downs the rest of the contents, to which you realise you’d barely touched your own cup since you got here. Not in the mood to drink, you hand your cup over to Soonyoung as well, to which the contents suffer the same demise.

Just as he’s putting his cup down, a stray Mingyu creeps up on Seungkwan and pulls him into a run straight into the pool. He only half succeeds as it results in yet another cat fight on the edge of the pool.

That left you two alone.

Tearing your eyes away from the live WWE match, you look over to see Soonyoung laughing at his friends’ antics, exhaustion faded as he finds joy in watching the scene. It’s a pretty sound, his laugh, a genuine sound. The way his eyes form crescent moons, and his lips break out into the prettiest shape; everything about him is endearing. You note the tiger patch on the sleeve of his jacket, assuming he attached it himself considering the slightly peeling corners. You could fix it for him.

Sub-consciusly, you find yourself reaching out and touching the patch, pushing it into his sleeve as though it could reattach itself with nothing.

Soonyoung notices your contact, and asks you inquisitively.

“Is the patch coming off?”

“Almost”

He lets out a sound of annoyance, “I only put it on last week”

“You can give it to me later, I can fix it and give it back”

“Really? I have a few more I wanna put on there too. The instructions are so vague I can never do them right”

The party was a tame one, with no other hiccups after that. Jennie did not come over to speak to you, nor did you see her for the rest of the night, you might’ve even forgotten she was there in the first place. Despite the low beat gathering, you felt refreshed after spending time with your friends, head clearer than it had been for weeks.

This also meant you were almost entirely sure that your crush was turning into a full blown pulverization.

It irritated you that these feelings were springing out of seemingly nothing. Kwon Soonyoung was remarkable, but nothing was done in a way that swept you off your feet in a single instance. A crawl, you’d describe it, a slow prowl in the back of your mind, building momentum slowly but surely.

You left that party with Kwon Soonyoung’s jacket, and questions for yourself as to why you offered to even do this when your goal was to avoid him.

***

You’re standing in front of your ironing board, with another plethora of patches that he had given you to attach. He’d given you free reign on how you wanted to do it but you wondered how much freedom you really had considering almost all of them were tiger themed in one way or another.

His friends entertained him regarding his tiger agenda, but you wonder how fitting it is considering the way he’d been circling your feelings like they were this damned animal’s prey.

Without realisng it, you’d been staring at the blaring orange patches and jacket on the board for a solid 20 minutes, lost in thoughts of Soonyoung and his ferocious ways to pull you under.

The pieces were doing nothing to your freshly awoken mind but have you think about him even more, so you chose sanity and decided you’d get back to it when you can control your train of thought.

Soonyoung, however, refuses to let you forget him as you hear a ring come from inside your room. It stops ringing before you can pick it up and you realise he both called and texted just minutes ago.

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: haiii

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: are you awake yet?

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]:did you put the patches on

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: does it look good

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: can i see

[You]: You called

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: yeah cuz you wouldn’t answer 🤬

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: answer my texts

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: where did you again

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: do you not lurve me anymore 😞

[You]: oh my god

[You]: dude its been barely 5 minutes since your first text

[You]: i have a life yk

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]:ok ya thats great

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: patches????jacket????????

[You]: i haven’t gotten to it yet i just woke up

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: GASP

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]:CAN I COME OVER AND WATCH YOU DO IT

Any remnants of fatigue from the night before evaporates as soon as you read the text.

[You]: Aren’t you like

[You]: hungover asf rn

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: not really

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: i dint have too much other than whatever you gave me

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]:was that even alcohol lol

[You]: idk Kwan just handed it to me

[You]: but yeah you can come over if you want

[You]: i was about to start working on it anyway

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: YAY

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: be there in 20 :3

Setting your phone down on the bed, you give yourself a couple minutes to close your eyes and think about what you just agreed to.

You want him here, of course you do. Your feelings were starting to bud into the attachment phase, where the heavy feeling would settle in your stomach when he wasn’t there. You hated how you needed his presence to feel like you could function.

You hate how much he effects you.

And despite how much you hate it, you find yourself getting up and wanting to make yourself look pretty. If pretty meant looking anything other than your just-woke-up hair and borderline no bottoms, you opted for one of your nicer lounge sets and brushing out your hair. This was you forcing yourself to draw a line of normalcy, you needed to put effort to not put effort in at all.

It occurs to you that this might be the first time you’re restraining yourself, not because you don’t want to scare someone away, but more to keep you from overstepping within your own bounds. Every love interest in your life brought about a vigor in you, wanting to do everything to appeal to them and to appeal to yourself.

This time was different. This time had you feel abhorrent towards your own feelings, for a reason that the universe molded to spring from a person most sensitive to you. And ironically, you realise these feelings may be stronger than any you’ve felt before.

By the time Soonyoung is here and sitting on the rugged floor in front of all the fabric, you’ve pushed the thoughts aside and focused on being happy in front of him.

You plug in the iron while you both try to find the right places for the patches, trying to decide what looks best.

“How’s here?” You put up a T shaped patch with a tiger surrounding it a little below the breast pocket.

“Oh, I like that. This can go there then, that’ll fit”

Trying not to think too much about how many times your fingers brushed with his while you shuffled the patches around the same jacket.

“And then you flip it over and run the iron for a little bit more” You instruct, glancing up at him to see if he understood.

You wish you hadn’t because because you realise then and there that Kwon Soonyoung has the most adorable concentration face you have ever seen. Wanting nothing more than to squish his cheeks together, you control yourself by forcefully retracting, probably a little too abruptly to be considered normal.

Thankfully, he doesn’t notice, too busy trying to do exactly as you instructed.

“Do I stop now?” He looks up and catches you staring at him intensely.

You realise you’ve been caught in the act and try to cover it up by moving forward and fumble with the fabric.

“Uh, we can check” you’re frantically lifting the fabric, touching it slightly trying not to burn yourself. “I think it’s good, yeah. Where’s the other one we can do that one now”

It might be you lying to yourself that he hadn’t noticed your heart eyes in a sub-conscious attempt to keep your cool around him, but you can’t be sure he’s not feeling just as awkward as you right now.

“Where do you even find this many tiger related patches from,” you start, in an attempt to diffuse the silence “I mean, unless it’s a hobby”

“I had a couple given to me by friends and stuff but most of them I bought at this sunday flea market” he looks up at you to continue, “It’s a really good flea market they’ve got loads of good junk, I’ll take you one of these days”

The prospect of going to the flea market with Soonyoung, especially when he says he’s going to take you is already sending off the flurry of butterflies (could be raccoons too, considering the frat party happening in your stomach).

“The patches thing isn’t really a hobby though, I think my shit job at the first one says so. It’s just the tigers really” He finishes, a slight mumble in his voice.

“They’re cute” you comment offhandedly, not missing the way his face lights up as you say that.

“Really? I mean tigers are cool, they’ve always been cool. They’re cute too, I guess”

You smile at his childish enthusiasm. You hadn’t lied, they were cute.

“Yeah, they complement the jacket too. You’ve just made a one of a kind, Kwon Soonyoung” you hold up the finished jacket, urging him to get up so he can try it on himself.

You watch him as he stares at himself and the jacket in the full length mirror, admiring his and your’s handiwork.

He waddles around to turn to you with the excitement of a child showing off their new outfit.

“Does it look good?” you almost cry at how adorable he sounds as he asks you the sincere question. As much as you’d like to fawn, you must exercise self control.

“Mhm, it really does look good. This was a good idea”

By the time you’re done cleaning up and Soonyoung has hung his jacket on an actual hanger, you suggest a bite to eat, considering how you hadn’t fed yourself since you woke up.

“Oh! Can you make that pesto salad too, that one you made that day it was really good”

You are but a puddle against his pleading eyes (that may not have been pleading that much you just think his eyes are pretty).

He’s determined to help you though, boiling the pasta, measuring the rice, asking for the nth time if “this much okay?”.

By the time you both had eaten and washed up, it was late afternoon and you were rummaging through your snack bins while Soonyoung flicked to find a movie to watch.

When you re-emerge into the living room, arms brick-and-mortared with snacks and drinks, you realise Soonyoung had picked a horror movie.

That’s not good. For you at least.

Don’t get it twisted, you weren’t one to lack valor, but you’d argue that horror movies were where you draw the line.

Dumping your arms load on the coffee table, you wonder if you should say something.

“Jeonghan said this was a good one, apparently he’s watched every horror movie in existence” He opens a can of whatever he finds on the table and cracks it open, you aren’t paying too close attention to what it is though, too busy trying to figure a way out of what’s going to become a literal night of horrors for you.

"Oh, didn't know that"

"course you didn't, wasn't this your first time meeting him?"

You want to thank him for making you look stupid.

"Right" you correct yourself, "Alyssa's always talking about him, it feels like I've known him forever"

He seems to accept that, which means you may have played it off.

But he also looks like he's about to press play on the trailer of the movie, like a sick taster for whatever was to come.

"Um, what's the movie about, again" you start, pretending to rummage through snacks even though you had no room after eating just before this.

"These things never really have a plot do they? It's just supposed to make you shit your pants anyway"

You laugh weakly at that, feeling a little sticky in your armpits, wondering if it was really getting as hot as you felt.

Trying to look at the bottom corner of the screen the entire time Soonyoung is assessing the trailer was a conscious effort, not wanting him to notice your lack of attention if you stare at anything other than the screen.

Pulling the blanket up to your chin as you settle into the couch beside him, you wonder how weirded out he'll get if you keep your head in the blanket the entire time.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks, noticing your incessant shuffling beside him.

"Yeah, yeah. Why'd you ask?" you're avoiding looking directly at him, like he could detect your blatant lies if you made eye contact.

"Do you wanna watch something else?”

“I don’t know, does the trailer look good?”

“You tell me, you just watched it too”

Right.

“I liked it”

You must’ve been believable, because it’s only a second later that he’s pressing play on the actual movie.

“I’ll get the lights”

You don’t have the energy to tell him you’d do it yourself as he gets up to switch off the lights, knowing for a fact your mother would have your head for allowing a guest do something while you were seated.

You had other worries, like how you were going to get through this movies without making yourself look like a wuss. You were fine for the first 10 minutes as the family moves into their new home, happy times as the kids settled into their rooms.

Soonyoung hadn’t spoken a word to you, too engrossed in his pack of chips and the movie playing.

So far so good.

You even briefly wonder what it’d be like to lean into his side as the movie progressed, but the thought is cut short as the first (somewhat) jumpscare has you flinching slightly.

That grabs his attention, realising you were flinching at the screen itself.

“Do you not like horror movies? Wait, fuck, I should’ve realised. We should watch something else-” He’s already reaching for the remote before you’re grabbing his stretched arm with both of your own hands.

“No, no, no. I like them, I’m just kinda jumpy with stuff like this. But it’s fun for me, like I like it, please”

“Bullshit”

“Soonyoung! I want to watch this movie”, you borderline yell.

He gives up for reaching for the remote and lets your hands bring him back in.

“You’re lying to me”, he says, a low register to his voice.

“Will you pretend I’m not?” you're still clutching his hands in a death grip, like he might lunge for the remote again.

It's silent for a minute, air thick. It was quite silly in hindsight, getting so worked up about picking a movie.

The gears are turning in his head, that much you can tell. You can only assume he's trying to refute somehow, but you've hit him with an emotional line. He's gonna have a hard time winning this one.

"Can I hold you then? To make you feel better"

He might as well have plowed his fists through your chest with the way the air is knocked out of them.

“Okay”

You need to put your mouth on a leash.

“Can I play it now?” He asks carefully, looking at you carefully.

“Yeah”

“Hon, you need to let go of my hands so I can do that”

You let go of his hands immediately, your own hands coming back up to your chest as you register that other feat of embarrassment.

He smiles as he reaches for the remote to resume the movie, and coming back to settle next to you.

Pulling away the blanket from his side, he beckons you to come closer to share it.

Scooching over slightly, he throws the blanket on so it covers both of you, paying attention to tuck it in to your sides.

When he’s done he throws an arm around and pulls you into him closer.

Leaning into you he says, “Relax, I won’t bite you”

So you do. You attempt to loosen the tension in your body as you let yourself fully mold into his side, hoping you were natural enough.

His attention is back on the movie, and yours is anywhere but. He smells like fresh linen and fabric softener, mixed with what you think is his perfume. Laundry soaps have never smelled this good.

You’re hyperaware of how his body is contracting and relaxing, how his fingers rest on your shoulders.

You debate on whether you should put your head on his shoulder. It was right there, ready for a lonely head to take refuge in.

Fuck it, I’ve come this far. Might as well.

With your head rested on his shoulder, arm wrapped around you and body engulfed in a blanket; you feel warm, the nice kind.

You’re attention, however, is diverted as you register the slowly daunting sound effects and cautious characters on the screen. Groaning internally, knowing full well what was coming, you bring the blanket up closer to your face, eyes already darting away in precaution.

What you also notice is how Soonyoung’s other hand makes its way on to your head to pat it slightly. You appreciate it though, it gives you more blockage. Your eyes are closed as an added measure when the inevitable jumpscare happens but you still flinch at the roar of the speakers.

Curse this movie and its amazing sound technicians.

By the time the movie’s over you’ve muscled through a few more jolts, more, if you count the last 20 minutes you spent with your head entirely under the blanket. Bless Soonyoung and his encouraging pats.

When you’ve finally emerged out of your hiding place as the end credits rolled, you inhale sharply as your back hits the sofa once more.

“Well” Soonyoung starts, “That was fun”

“Yes”, you breathe out as you turn to him, an exasperated smile on your face.

By the time you’re done cleaning up the hoard of snack wrappers and sprayed the room so it wouldn’t smell like cheese puffs, Soonyoung announces that he’s going to take his leave.

“Stay” you blurt out as soon as he says so. “Stay until dinner, we can go out if you want. Or we could ask the rest of them if they’re not busy we can all get together. But stay, you don’t have anywhere to be, do you?”

“I mean, I’ve been here forever, don’t you have plans” He asks sheepishly.

“Bold of you to assume I’d have two days of plans, back to back” you reply, earning you a snort from him.

“Regardless, I was gonna go to the studio to warm up for a couple hours.” he says, “If you don’t have plans, do you wanna come with? I mean, the advice you gave last time you came with Kwan actually worked. Could use your input”

“So I’m only being asked because you want input?”

“No! I mean, it’ll be fun, I could teach you too. I didn’t mean it like-” his eyes have gone wide slightly, hand coming up in defense.

You laugh at his defense, “I’m kidding. Wait here, I’ll go change. It’ll only be a minute”

***

By the time he’s warmed up the both of you with his endless stretches, you’re already panting.

“Okay, there’s this thing I’ve been working on. If we finish it today, how about we film it?” Soonyoung asks, walking over to the music controls.

“Film it? Film it for what?” you whip your head around.

“Insta, or something. I post a lot of them there, it’s like an archive”

“A portfolio you mean?”

“If having pictures of me posing also counts as appropriate in a dance portfolio, sure let’s call it that”

By the time he’s shown you what he’s been working on so far, you’re left wondering what impression you’ve given him to think this was doable for you.

“Um” you want to tell him he’s overestimated your abilities, but your cut off.

“No I’m not hearing it, up! Right now!” And he’s grabbing you by the arms to pull you up. You’re vaguely reminded how he did this by the river too a few weeks ago.

“It just looks hard, it’s not really. You’ll be fine” He promptly lets go, running to turn off the music loop.

You feel a little stupid as you try to mimic his moves. It’s not that he’s a bad teacher, he’s actually explaining it quite well, but they just don’t seem to fit your natural movements. He evens tops what he’s doing at one point and walks over to yank your shoulders back and stiffen your head up.

“You’re not relaxed, you need to stop thinking so much about it, just do.”

“Didn’t know I was taking dance lessons from Plato” you grumble.

As annoyed as you were, his advice was working. Soon you were more than halfway done, moving through each move faster and faster.

“And that’s it” he announces, “we’ll refine it a bit and then we can film”

It took you a few takes but you came to one you were happy with. He may have managed to get you to film with him but you bargained for the dimmed lights to shadow your face; alas your embarrassment is only human.

In bed, you watch the final cut he posted on his social media. You can barely watch the whole thing through before you’re switching off your phone entirely to set it where you can’t reach.

***

“Y/n, it’s literally impossible for you to know that” Alyssa exclaims.

“No it’s not. Common sense if you ask me” you reply.

“How do you know that Hoshi is not as love with you you are with him”

“Alyssa, I’m not having this conversation with you in the middle of a supermarket” you snap, throwing a bag of spinach in the cart she’s pushing behind you.

“Then when? When he’s moved on and found someone else because you wouldn’t fess up? When they move in together? When they get married? Have children!?”

Halting in your tracks, theres a vivid image of Soonyoung in a tux with a faceless woman at the alter, smiles and joy. Shaking it off, you stalk to the next aisle faster than your friend can catch up.

“Miss ma’am, do not fucking run away from me” she barks as she parks next to you in the sauce aisle. “You’re deluding yourself into thinking you have a reason to not confront him because you’re scared of your own feelings”

“Didn’t have to get that deep in front of the bechamel” you pose a sad face next ot the jar before chucking it in the cart.

Alyssa groans a dramatic sigh, you simply move on to the ginger and garlic pastes.

“The bechamel wants you to confess” she says, voice muffled with her head down on the handles of the cart.

“The bechamel wants me to be sensible”

“You’re stubborn with absolutely nothing but this, what’s it going to take”

“I don’t know Alyssa. I don’t know”

“The bechamel would also like to know why you feel the need to loiter around other people’s exes?”

You watch Alyssa’s face go sour at the person behind you. Turning around to confront the familiar voice, meeting with a sickly sweet smile and mocking eyes.

“Oh sorry, am I overstepping”, Jennie feigns a concerned voice before switiching, “Oh wait, no, that was you”

“I’d suggest the candy aisle if you’re gonna be a child about this” Alyssa rolls her eyes as she puts on the bitchiest face you’ve ever seen. You liked it.

“I don’t answer to you, Jennie. If you have a problem with me doing anything then too bad. And I’d really appreciate you quit playing ‘mean girl’ it’s not cute” You say calmly, you were not about to punch someone in the middle of a supermarket.

“Can’t believe I was about to try to make up with you. My bad, you won’t hear from me again, don’t worry about it”

With that she turns around and leaves the aisle, leaving you a little speechless.

You almost think she was mirage with how quickly she dropped in and out, not without throwing a couple on brand commentary.

“Does this bitch think she’s in some Hollywood movie, what was with the faces” Alyssa rants as she helps you unpack groceries in your kitchen.

“God, you were so right about that mean girl thing, she probably thinks she’s so cool” She turns around and makes a very apparent gagging motion. “You’d think we’re in middle school or something -”

“I’m gonna tell him how I feel” you announce, dropping the bag of spaghetti and turning around to face her.

That shuts her up, very quickly too.

“Come again” she whispers.

Shifting your weight on your other leg you exhale loudly, not wanting to make eye contact.

“I’m gonna tell Soonyoung that I like him” you reiterate slowly, more for yourself than her.

“Are you serious? You’re not joking right?” She’s dropped everything and come up to grab your arms.

“It’s probably good that I saw her today, I think she meant to discourage me but it just…did the opposite”

“When’re you gonna do it?”

“Um” you fiddle with your fingers, “When the times right, I guess”

“Vague. But I can’t even be mad about it right now” she claps her hands together, “Oh I’m so excited for you”

“Are you crying?”

“No. They’re just glazed. Like a donut.”

“Like a donut?”

“Like a donut”

You let out a chortle before turning back to put away the rest of your groceries.

It was becoming increasingly obvious of your lack of self control around Soonyoung, going against your own words of distance. Today’s altercation was a crude reminder of exactly why you started avoiding Jennie in the first place, and after all these months, you’d fallen back into the habit of allowing her to control you. The only thing holding you back from Soonyoung was Jennie, despite the lack of physical existence.

Both you and Soonyoung had changed, Jennie was still in the same place.

***

The next time you see Soonyoung, he’s an awful lot touchier than normal. He’s tipsy, so of course he is. But with a confession looming in your mind, it’s natural for you to be hypersensitive.

You’re sitting in the big house your friends had rented to celebrate the end summer season, out in the yard on the grass getting drunk and talking nonsense. The weather was beautiful, minus the mess that had become of dinner plates and drinking glasses strewn across the grass.

Soonyoung had slowly progressed from head on your shoulder, to full on back hug, to eventually lie down completely on your lap.

That didn’t stop him form positively belting whatever song Sengkwan and Jeonghan were karaoke-ing though, not wanting to miss out on anything if he went to bed inside to retire.

It was shocking how easily Jeonghan welded into the group beyond his relationship with Alyssa, one not to go amiss by Soonyoung.

He turns around on his back so he’s looking up at you.

“Are Alyssa and Jeonghan dating or are they just getting there?” He asks bluntly, probably a little louder than socially acceptable.

Jeonghan was too busy belting with Alyssa filming him, so it didn’t catch their ears at the very least.

“They made it official a couple months ago, she asked him out first because of that bet with Kwan. But he popped the real question”

“Cuties” he mumbles, turning around to look at them. “I think I wanna go to bed now”

“Come on, I’ll tuck you in” you say as he rolls off your lap and faceplants on the grass.

“I’ll sleep here”

“You’re gonna wake up as a mosquito warzone, get up!” you chide, hands under his armpits in futile attempts to pull him up.

He only hums in response, and you’re afraid he’s already falling asleep.

Dropping back down on your knees, you whisper in his ear.

“Come on, you need to brush your teeth too. And change out of this sweaty thing, you can’t sleep like this”

It takes a bit more coaxing before he slowly begins to get up, sitting on his knees looking blank for a couple minutes. By the time you’ve bumped into several decor pieces inside the house and to his bedroom, you’re thanking god he didn’t decide to room upstairs. You plop on the bed in exhaustion, having to support him so he wouldn’t walk into a garbage chute.

He’s surprisingly quick to change into his pyjamas, although it took a little more force to get him to brush his teeth, not even thinking about attempting to get him to wash his face.

“Night, Hosh” you’re about to turn out the light when he jolts up from his position from under the blankets.

“Wait!” he says, “Stay here”

“Soonyoung you need to sleep to sober up” you reply.

“I don’t wanna sober up” he pouts.

You sigh as you walk over to his bed and plant yourself at the edge. “But you’re sleepy”

He chooses to ignore you and changes the subject, “Y/n, do you like me?”

What the fuck.

“Of course I like you. Wouldn’t hang around you so much if I didn’t” you reply, not sure how you managed that.

“Oh’.

If you weren’t lying to yourself, you could’ve sworn you saw his face fall a little.

It’s silent for a few seconds before you start again, “Will you go to sleep now?”

He nods his head slowly this time, still staring blankly at the sheets.

So you get up, turn out the lights and begin walking back to where you can hear the rest of your friends’ chatter.

Thumping coming from behind you has you turning around in an instant, your fight or flight trying to understand what burglar was trying to attack you.

What you don’t expect to see is a fully awake Soonyoung stomping over to meet you in the middle.

“I thought I put you in bed” you smile, trying to understand what the change in mood was now.

He ignores you again, and goes straight to the bite.

“Can I kiss you?”

There’s a blank stare on your face as you attempt to register the meaning behind his words.

Kwon Soonyoung had asked to kiss you.

Before you start drooling, you move your head slowly in a fashion that you hope came off as a nod.

It had to have, because the next second, Soonyoung’s lips were on yours.

One hand holding your face and the other pulling you closer into him, he kisses you softly and slowly.

Shaking hands come to touch his own face as you focus on the delicate feeling of his lips and reciprocating.

Pulling away, but just enough that your lips still touch and your breathing into each others mouths, you move back in and kiss him harder. His hands are moving everywhere now, groping you at your waist, your hips, your shoulders.

His tongue is doing beautiful things in your mouth and you hope you can get through it before your knees give out from under you.

You pull away this time, and he immediately moves to kiss down your jaw, moving towards your neck. He’s starting to lose himself there as you reign him in.

“Soonyoung, Soonyoung. Hoshi!” you exclaim, voice breathy and panting. “You’re drunk”

He stops his antics, but his mouth is still pressed into your neck as he brreathes you in.

“Lay with me” he croaks out eventually.

And you do. You follow him back to his room, allowing him to get comfortable as you settle in beside him, not caring that you were still in your day clothes and makeup.

You didn’t care, you let yourself hug him tight as your head rested between his neck and shoulder. There was calm; the buzzing in your head stopping as you let yourself melt into his arms.

Your friends would eventually come inside, only find you both tangled in each other’s limbs, sound asleep.

***

The bed is empty once you wake up, not thinking anything of it as you clamp your eyes back shut and try to go back to sleep again. You’ve almost lulled yourself back to dreamland when a jolting recollection comes back to you. Snapping your eyes open again, you push yourself up on your hands, looking around the room. You see the unmistakable tiger phone case on the nightstand and realise last night was not, in fact, an intoxicated fever dream.

The water is running in the attached bathroom, and with no roommate, you can only assume Soonyoung is in there.

Falling back down on the mattress, you attempt to stretch to clear yourself of fatigue, checking Soonyoung’s phone on the nightstand that read a blaring 2:33 PM.

Rubbing your eyes and consciously getting rid of the crusties, you’re suddenly very aware of how horrible your breath smells.

Soonyoung’s emerging from the bathroom before you can find a solution, hair wet from a shower and (thankfully) clothed in a Tee and shorts.

“Afternoon” he grins in greeting, moving over to place an unexpected kiss on your chapped lips.

“I have to pee” you say as you hastily get up and shuffle to the bathroom.

Soonyoung is sitting in the same spot when you emerge after a minute, “Can you get me my toothbrush from my room? It’s the purple one”

His eyes widen as he springs up immediately, “Yeah, give me a sec”

Disappearing back into the bathroom once he gets your toothbrush, you sit on the toilet cover and try to gain your bearings.

His good afternoon kiss told you he had recollection of the night before; one less thing to mull over.

Springing up from the seat, your quick to start brushing your teeth with more force than actually required. You were going to let whatever happens, happen. No more thinking.

Drying yourself off you emerge back into the room and sit next to Soonyoung on the bed.

“Do you…” he trails off, “Do you not wanna talk about it? Because I get it if you don’t cuz you haven’t said anything yet and I kinda realised maybe I overstepped and-”

You cut him off by leaning in and placing another soft peck on his lips.

“You asked before you did anything and I agreed. That’s not overstepping. I just can’t talk with morning breath, sorry” you breathe out a laugh.

“Oh” he starts laughing too.

“Do we have to do the walk of shame to the kitchen now? I’d delay it but I’m kinda dying for coffee and an advil”

He brings your face in his hands and plants another kiss on your mouth, “They’re all still passed out”

“Perfect” you mumble against his lips, not being able to hold back your giggles.

He leads you into the kitchen, hand in hand, stopping in front of the cabinets for a solid minute. You stand there with him, wondering why he was so silent. He snaps out of it remembering you were here for food and finally turns around to ask you what you wanted.

You could only laugh at his lost expression, still slightly sleepy despite the mid afternoon sun clock.

“I don’t have energy, let’s just do cereal” you say, moving to get the bowls out of the cabinets.

“Nuh huh” he says, “You sit down on the counter. I will make you the best bowl of cereal this nation has ever seen”

You give him a look, but sit down at the counter anyways. He makes a show of whipping out bowls and boxes of cereal.

“Yeah see the key here is to be slow with it. Light lil shakes it comes right out, no broken powdery pieces that make the milk feel like soggy sand” he demonstrates as you watch, chin in your hand.

He does as instructed, only for what seemed like half the bag’s contents spill out into the bowl. You’re both silent as you absorb the comical hill of coco puffs protruding from the bowl, before giggle a little.

“No that’s fine, I’ll eat that. I’m a big boy I need my” - he turns the box around to read the description - “fibre”, he concludes.

“Oh yes of course” you agree with him dutifully.

Managing to put an actual acceptable amount into another bowl, he turns around to the fridge.

“Oat milk, almond milk, soy milk…?” He asks, head stuck inside the fridge.

“We had options?” You ask

“Apparently. Jeonghan might’ve spat in one of these though, he doesn’t believe soy exists”

Fair.

“Is there normal milk?”

He emerges all cute and smiley with the box of cow’s milk, sachaying back over the counter to finish off your bowls.

Once he’s done cermemoniusly plopping a spoon into the bowls, he takes a seat across from you.

He’s looking at you expectantly as bring the first spoonful to your mouth. You can’t help but smile wide at his expression, eyes wide and mouth in a bread smile. Reaching over, you pinch his cheeks hard.

“Ow” he says, but he’s laughing. “Well? How is it?”

“It’s very good. I’ll be excpecting you to make all my cereal bowls henceforth”

“Understood”

Today was your last day here, everybody planning on packing up, loading the cars and leaving by tonight. You hadn’t even realised till midway through your breakfast, and as you see Alyssa walk in to the kitchen. She’s bleary eyed with rats nest hair, clearly just woken up.

She whines as she sits next to you, something about a horrible headache. It’s not long before Jeonghan walks into the kitchen in the same state, resting himself against her back, head on her shoulder.

You smile at the hungover couple, clearly needing more sleep and probably an entire bottle of meds.

Realising they may have fallen asleep like that in the middle of the kitchen stacked on the counter, you smile.

“I’ll do the dishes” you announce, getting off your stool and moving to grab his bowl across the counter.

“No” he rebutts claiming his bowl and your own. “I am”

“Soon-”

“Go make the bed or something, I’ll clean this out”

“Wow. Is the Kwon Soonyoung offering to wash the dishes?” you hear another voice introduce itself. Joshua had also woken up.

You move past him to the room but you don’t miss the muffled sound of “simp” coming from the kitchen. Fighting back another sappy smile, you breathe a sigh of relief.

***

You’re out in the backyard, sitting on the steps as you try to get a good picture of the trees and the flower beds out back. It was nice and sunny, but not enough for it to be considered too hot to handle. Soonyoung comes out back with two coffees, setting them down on the wood beside you. Wrapping his arms around you, he plants a kiss on your lips when you turn your face back to him.

“Whatchu looking at?” he asks.

“The flowers look really pretty in the sun” you answer trying to pull up the pictures you just took.

“They do. You’re the prettiest flower, though.You don’t attract bees. Or die in 3 days” He says.

“Bees are pivotal for the environment, sir”

“I love it when you use big words”

“Pivotal’s a big word, now?”

“I am but a wild tiger, I know nothing but the wilderness and my prey”

You snort at his revelation, a littlle concerned how he could say that with a straight face, you peck him regardless.

“Sit down, tiger, you’re gonna get dizzy if you squat too much”

“What part of strong ferocious tiger are you not understanding” he huffs.

It takes one questioning look for him to plant his butt behind you, legs coming up to encase your entire body in his limbs. His arms stay around you, chin on your shoulder.

“Just to clarify, because Jeonghan asked in the kitchen, I mean, once he woke up anyway,” he starts, “we’re dating right?”

Not being able to handle how innocent he sounds, you turn around and place a big smooch on his face.

“You’re fucking adorable”

He has a blank face, “That doesn’t answer my question. I think”

“Yes. Yes we’re dating”

Watching his face break out into a smile, your own smile widens. You kiss him again for good measure. You don’t see how you could get tired of doing it.

Settling your back into his chest you sigh as you pick up the coffee he brought you to take a sip.

You damn near spit it back out.

“Is it good?” he asks.

You don’t answer as you try to get over the shock in your tastebuds.

He picks up his own mugs and tastes for himself. He, unlike you, actually did spit it back into the mug.

He’d salted the coffee instead of sugar.

***

You’re in bed, except this time Soonyoung is with you, playing with your fingers.

He brings your hand up, curling each of your fingers so it made a tiger paw. You straighten it back only for him to whine and do it again. You straighten them out again, only this time it’s to annoy him.

Once he’s satisfied with the positioning and yous top being a menace, he puts his own hands up in the same pose and takes a picture. It’s when he starts tapping on his phone is when you ask;

“What’re you doing”

“Soft launching you” he responds, too engrossed in picking the right stickers for his Instagram story. “Well, I’ve already hard launched you like three times on my feed already but it’s official this time”

Placing your chin on shoulder, head next to his as you look at what he’s doing on his phone with him.

“That’s too orange” you comment.

“Babe, all tigers are orange”

“Yes but choose a less obnoxious orange, that one’s nasty” you wrinkle your nose.

“Should we get a dog and dye it orange and black?” He mumbles nonchalantly.

Blinking for a moment, you reply, “Pretty sure that’s animal abuse”

“We’ll use animal safe dye. You know I saw this lady in the States dye her dog pink on youtube, it’s totally fine”

“Soonyoung, she wanted a pink dog. You want a tiger. Those are not the same things”

He sighs dramatically as he admits defeat, setting his phone aside after hitting post before turning to you all pouty.

“Why don’t you call me cute names” he asks, switching the subject abruptly, once again.

This was going to take some getting used to.

“I mean I guess I call you Hoshi sometimes-”

“No, everyone calls me that. We’re supposed to have those cute lovey dovey disgsuting names just for each other” he whines.

‘Soonie’ was off the suggestions, and you doubted he’d want you to call him something his ex once did (wore it out, really).

“Youngie?” he suggests, but goes back to thinking once he reads your questionable look.

“Nicknames catch on, don’t they. Maybe I’ll start calling you something after you embrass yourself with it”

“Oh! I can call you pesto! You know cuz of your salad” He says, bouncing on the bed to aggressively face you.

“It can’t possibly appeal to you that much-” you start.

“If you were dying and that pesto was drowning with you, I’d dive for the pesto” he deadpans.

There’s little ways you can respond to your boyfriend choosing a pleasure of 5 minutes over your life, but sure, you’ve had a couple burgers you’d string him up for too.

“Good to know. Get out of my house” you choose to reply.

“Nooooooo!” he exclaims, dramatically throwing all of his limbs across your entire body to suffocate you. “I’m not leaving, EVER!”

“This is criminal tresppassing!” your voice is muffled under his chest as he shows no signs to let go.

“Criminal trespassing on your heart!!”

You’re afraid he’s quite proud of that one, and you question why you're here for a moment. You decide to spare him a choking considering he was right.

“Hey Pesto, how about some salad for this criminal?” he asks, his disgustingly adorable smug face presented to you aas he loosens his grip.

An animal type strength comes roaring inside you as you respond by pushing him off the bed completely.

“Ow” he shouts, “What was that for?”

“For whatever it was that prompted you to say that” you say.

“So no pesto, Pesto?” he’s pouting, and rubbing his behind a little.

Deciding to be nice, you hang over the bed and pull his face up to kiss him.

“Yes pesto. If you come back up here to cuddle for a few more minutes” you smile, still holding his now also smiling face.

He’s quick to scramble, pulling himself up before you’re stopping him with a sock clad foot to his chest; “No cringey commentary or I’ll throw you off the bed again”

He responds by landing directly on you, planting pecks all over your face as you decide, then and there, that you’d take any cringey joke to have him kiss you everyday.

2K notes · View notes

eoieopda · 6 months

Text

sweatshirt season | ksy

your fuck buddy is good at a lot of things. taking hints isn’t one of them.

pairing: kwon soonyoung x reader type: one-shot / fluff + smut rating: 18+ (minors do not have my consent to interact) au: one-night-stand to fuck buddies to ? wc: 4.5k cw: gn! and afab!reader (no pronouns used); time skips; protected penetrative sex (p in v); hoshi is kinda a himbo, lmao; ft. cameo by minghao and roomate!gn!sibling OC; reference to the movie they're watching, which is hereditary (brief mention of decapitation + demonic possession); barely proofread, sorry! a/n: this is based on a headcanon i did a while ago! i've been in such a horrible rut re: writing for the past month and a half, so it was a major struggle to write this because i feel like i don't know how to do that anymore 😵‍💫 i'm hoping that himbo hoshi can save me from this hell. also, this is told in vignettes!

[APRIL]

“Babe?”

The voice from nowhere is barely loud enough to drag you from sleep, but the effect it has on you is far from soft. Those consonants dig in where your dehydrated brain shrinks away from your skull, pressing in so hard that they throb.

Bleary-eyed, you blink as rapidly as you can to adjust to the bright, white light beaming in through your open shades. The sound that escapes you is something akin to a hiss; it gets the point across, nonetheless. You sit up just enough to see the figure standing in front of your window, looming overhead with crossed arms, laughing.

Clearly, your roommate doesn’t give a shit or a fuck about your hangover.

“What’s the deal with the stray you brought home last night?” Mei asks, the corners of their mouth tilting wickedly.

You don’t have the brain power for this conversation, so you respond with a groan and bury your face back in the pillow from whence it came. Never one to give up, Mei drops down on top of you so that the full weight of their body rests against yours.

“C’mon,” they urge. “Spill your guts, chingu.”

Funnily enough, if they don’t get off your guts, you might do exactly that.

Your reply comes in the form of a croak, some pathetic little sound that reads as lifeless as you feel. “Why do you care?”

There isn’t a single reason you can think of for their sudden interest in your bad decisions. You’ve been making them left and right for the past few months without much more than a concerned glance, and until now, you didn’t realize that you’d taken the lack of follow-up questions for granted.

What a fucking travesty it is to be perceived.

“Your business is your business.” Mei shrugs. You quirk an eyebrow, ready to jump in and point out their lapse in logic, but then that smirk comes back. “But your business is currently burning eggs in our kitchen, which makes it my business, too.”

Sitting up quickly, the force of your sudden moves nearly knock Mei to the ground. Beyond horrified, you squeak, “He’s still here?”

Faster than you’ve ever moved before, you clamber out from underneath your roommate and crawl to the edge of your bed, kicking wildly at your blankets until your legs are free.

You’re already up and swaying on your feet, panting from the effort, when you finally think to look down and assess the state of yourself. Thankfully, you’d remembered to dress yourself before falling asleep. You glance upward and salute whatever deity was looking out for you, ignore the look on Mei’s face entirely, and dash out of your bedroom.

As soon as you reach the kitchen, you skid to a stop, socks sliding across the hardwood until your hip bone collides with the corner of the kitchen island. You hiss again, far louder than the last time. The shape standing at your stove turns around wide-eyed; his mouth is frozen in the shape of an “o”.

Just as quick, recognition flashes, and the shock wears off.

“Good morning,” he chirps, and he’s all fucking sunshine.

You blink back at him without a single idea of where to start — with the fact that he’s still here after you could’ve sworn he left, that he’s wearing your apron but has no clear grasp on the simple act of frying eggs, or that you cannot for the life of you remember his name.

Fuck.

You should really start keeping a guest book.

Whatever his name is, he’s witnessing you at your worst — certifiably crusty with your standard bad attitude — and that alone makes you want to wither and die, right on the spot. Unbothered by your ghoulish appearance, he gestures to the kitchen island you just collided with, pointing to a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

Items he would’ve had to open two (2) separate cabinets to find.

In the kitchen he shouldn’t even be in.

You open your mouth, primed to explode all over him, but the way he’s looking at you disarms you immediately. His expression is so chipper — so friendly and childlike in its innocence — that you swallow down the shit you’d readily hurl at anyone else. You gulp, and without saying a word in acknowledgement, you grab what he’s laid out for you.

He smiles when you choke down the aspirin, then turns back around to pull the scrambled, half-burnt mess off the burner.

“You must have a pretty low alcohol tolerance if you’re this hungover after three drinks,” he muses.

It’s an accurate observation — a harmless one, too — but you did not ask. Once again, he shoots you a smile that prevents you from snapping at him. Instead, you set the now-empty glass back down on the island and stare vacantly over at him.

Seonghwa?

“You’re still here,” you say flatly. You may be stating the obvious, but that fact speaks for itself. “You’re still here, and you’re also in my kitchen.”

Seokjin, maybe?

He smiles at this, either unaware that he’s violated the unwritten one-night-stand code of conduct or unfazed by his own rule breaking. Rubbing the back of his neck, he laughs awkwardly, “It was the least I could do, you know? After all you —”

What the fuck is your name?

“Sungwoo!” You cut him off with a gasp and a palm raised, all but begging him not to recount what he’s grateful for within earshot of your roommate. “Really, you don’t need to do this. Any of this.”

He corrects you gently, “It’s Soonyoung.”

Then, without even a hint of offense taken, he nods his head towards one of the stools tucked under the counter of the island. Your eyes flit between his hopeful face and the seat, frozen solid with indecision.

You see two options, and both feel like a trap:

Holding the line risks squashing this clueless boy’s marshmallow heart; and you don’t want to be the gash that ruins his day at the very outset. If you feed the stray — rather, if you let the stray feed you — then you’re an enabler, contracting a residency when the show was supposed to be one-night-only.

More perceptive than you’ve given him credit for so far, he senses the conflict inside your skull and attempts to tip the scale with a bread-cheeked smile and a shoulder wiggle. “Your breakfast is getting cold,” he nudges in a soft, sing-song tone.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Begrudgingly, you dump yourself onto a stool without a word. With your elbows now propped up on the countertop, you drop your chin down to rest on the heels of your hands. More than anything, you try like hell to ignore the way it all makes his face light up.

“I don’t understand how you went from demonically hot to…” Your voice trails off as you try to find a word for whatever this is. A beat passes before you give up, waving dismissively. “Domesticated, or whatever.”

And his cheeks go pink.

“You think I’m hot?” He all but gasps, like this is brand new information to him.

Like you would’ve brought him home from the club if he wasn’t — and goddamn, was he ever. Carrying himself with the kind of confidence that made your knees wobble; saying all the right things in a low, smoky tone with his lips at your ear; moving his body in ways that still fluster you to think about.

And yet, here he is.

Adorable, if not completely obtuse.

After grabbing plates from a nearby cabinet, he snags two pairs of chopsticks out of the drawer to the left of the sink. It takes all you’ve got not to roll your eyes. He shouldn’t know where either of those things are, but he does.

A satisfied sigh slips out of his mouth when he takes the seat next to yours and scoots a plate full of eggs and kimchi in front of you.

“Here you go,” he sings as he holds out a pair of your own chopsticks to you.

He’s beaming when you accept them into your hand, and it leaves you with no choice but to take a bite of the food in front of you. Intently and chronically hopeful, he watches you pluck a piece of scrambled egg from the plate, like the trajectory of his life hinges on your approval. There’s no turning back now. Reluctantly, you pop it into your mouth.

While you chew, he leans in a bit closer. From this distance, you can see your own reflection in his irises; there are tiny flecks of honey brown amidst the dark, you realize. Little details you didn’t notice last night when he was much, much closer — like the heart-shaped curve his upper lip takes when he smiles as big as he is now.

“How is it?” He asks, walking the borderline between eager and unbearably shy.

You swallow hard as you snap back to attention. If letting him stay for breakfast was a bad call, getting caught gawking at him is a flagrant foul. Somehow, you need to get the point across without being too cruel; to remind him that you signed up for the night and not the morning.

“Um. Well,” you start with a grimace, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Are eggs supposed to… crunch?”

[JUNE]

“Oh, fuck, just like that —”

Your back arches off the bed as you grip uselessly at sweat-drenched sheets. Between your spread thighs, Soonyoung and the punishing pace he’s set make quick work of pulling you apart, again. His right arm loops under your left leg to anchor you to him while his left palm presses down on your lower abdomen, making damn sure that every thrust drags over your g-spot.

This — this right here — is why you keep calling him back. He may overstay his welcome, but that’s an occupational hazard. His perpetual presence is a risk you’re willing to take, so long as he fucks you like this.

“Shit. You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?”

He’s panting as he says it, which surprises the hell out of you. His stamina is unearthly, and when you manage to keep your eyes open long enough to look up at him, you don’t see any hint of effort. It's just the ragged sound of his breathing, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“I think this might be a new personal record.”

Unfortunately, his little announcement is genuine. He’s merely stating a fact, not trying to tease you, because his only concern outside of making you cum is outdoing himself.

To Soonyoung, sex is a performance he’s trying to perfect. He approaches it like an Olympian — an athlete or a god? — and the bar he sets for himself raises every time you see him.

You find it the tiniest bit endearing how focused he is on self-improvement.

Kind of.

That doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes, though.

“Not if you keep —” A moan that you didn’t mean to let out cuts your sentence in half. “— talking.”

Your head crashes back against the pillows, which only spurs him on. Deeper, more deliberate strokes leave you writhing underneath him, babbling like a fool. He grins so wide that his eyes almost disappear.

“I’m just saying…” Another thrust, a thousand more stars dotting the periphery of your vision. “If you hit five, you owe me dinner.”

There it is, right on cue: another piece of evidence to prove that Soonyoung still doesn’t know what he signed up for.

It’s a conversation you’ve had more than once — never because you want to have it; and never because he seems to be consciously seeking something more than what you have.

At some point over the past few months of scattered nights with you, a seed seems to have taken root in the back of his brain. A zombie parasite, more likely; one that’s overridden the controls and completely undermined his understanding of the situation.

Whether he means it or not, these throw-away comments make you wonder if, deep down, he’s not wired to fuck without feelings.

Not like you, anyway.

Your self-preservation instincts don’t let you get that far. Risk-averse to your core, you don’t see the point of gambling when the stakes are that high. And even if you weren’t wary of getting yourself hurt, it wouldn’t change the fundamental truth that you enjoy your own company enough not to need anyone else’s.

The way you see it, Soonyoung can have a cameo in your weekends, but the plot of your life right now doesn’t need anything more than that. Changing the lineup now could fuck your whole season. So, why try?

To his credit, he seems to get that there are currently more pressing matters at hand than the same old conversation. He pats your hip and says, “Let’s switch it up.”

You’re as grateful for the subject change as you are for the hand he extends to help your boneless body sit up again. Thankfully, the one lesson he has learned is that no one can compete with his perpetually full battery. If he’s going to change positions as often as he wants to, he has to be the one to position you.

This time, you wind up with your back flush against his chest, skin slick against yours. To keep him close, you reach back until your hand finds the nape of his neck. After weaving your fingers through the damp hair at the base of his head, you tug slightly, pulling a low groan out of him.

“Fuck, yeah,” he grunts breathlessly. “Pull my hair.”

You do as he says, albeit a bit harder than you meant to; you can’t help it. That’s the exact moment he chooses to grab your hips and slam your ass back against his pelvis, perfectly in time with his forward snap. He’s in your guts now, there’s no doubt about it, and you’re falling to pieces.

Wailing, you have to squeeze your eyes shut to survive the surge of pleasure coursing through you. “Oh, my god,” you choke out.

The only way you manage to stay upright through your orgasm is with Soonyoung’s arms caging you in. Without him, you’d be a trembling fucking mess, collapsing face-down onto your bed in a useless heap. He keeps holding you even when he lets himself go soon after, spilling into the condom with a moan you feel as it leaves his chest.

“Goddamn,” he sighs, voice rough. The heat of his breath on your neck almost makes you want to cling to him, curl up and let your eyes flutter shut. “Every time I fuck you, I feel like I should thank you.”

That flicker of affection goes out in a flash as the memory of consequences comes back around. You snort. “Please don’t cook for me again.”

You leave it at that, and so does he. When he finally pulls out of you, you give into the safer urge; the one that can’t possible give him the wrong impression. Slumping forward, you hit the mattress so hard that you practically bounce, like the dead weight you are.

Soonyoung misses that spectacle, thankfully. He’s already on his feet, tying off the condom before dropping it into the wastebasket on the other side of the room. You hear it drop against the plastic bag, then the soft pad of his footsteps as he makes his way back to you. You unbury your face from the pillows and crane your neck to look over at him.

In a rare display, he looks exhausted. Moments like this might be the only time he ever finds himself depleted, and you figure he’s earned that right. Part of you wants to let him lay here with you — maybe even let him sleep it off — but you can’t let him get tangled in the strings you refuse to attach.

He’s halfway to you when he finally looks up at you and catches you watching him. You’re not sure what he sees in your expression; you’d bet it’s as confusing on the outside as it feels on the inside. Whatever he finds there, it makes him pause. There's a quick nod, like he’s reacting to something neither one of you has said out loud, then he changes course.

“You have to be up early,” he says, like he’s finally learned the script. “I’m gonna head out.”

You nod but say nothing else. You just watch as Soonyoung grabs the clothes you’d tugged off of him earlier, piece by piece, and puts everything back to the way it was before.

The way you want it.

Once he’s fully clothed, he shoots you a smile that only uses half of his mouth. Neither of you offers a word as he walks over to the door, although you can tell he’s moving more slowly than usual. Hoping you’ll stop him, maybe.

You don’t.

It’s not until he pulls it open that he looks back over his shoulder at you; and this time, when he smiles, it looks like he means it.

“Sleep well, yeah?”

[OCTOBER]

“I’m just saying that if her shithead brother bothered to include her in his night, maybe she wouldn’t have been decapitated."

You tear your eyes off the television screen in time to see Minghao’s eyes roll all the way back into his head. Across the coffee table from where you sit, he and Mei occupy the couch; his head crashes against the back of it with a muffled thump while his younger sibling continues their rant.

“I’m being for real,” Mei urges, jabbing their finger emphatically through the air in his direction. “If you ever bail on me like that, and my head ends up falling off, you deserve whatever consequences come next.”

You snort. “Up to and including… what, demonic possession?”

“Absolutely,” Mei sniffs.

Minghao sits upright again slowly. He chews thoughtfully on his lower lip, leaving you and your roommate in suspense. Knowing him, he’ll lecture you both on karmic energy and how Mei shouldn’t fuck around with it. To both of your surprise, he frowns. “Is it bad that I kind of want cake now?”

You and Mei respond at the same time, although your responses are nothing alike:

“I think we have some left over.”

“Yes, you’re a monster.”

Despite what they just called him, Mei is nothing if not a good host. With a beleaguered huff, they push themselves off the couch, step carefully over the legs Minghao doesn’t move out of their path, and stalks off towards the kitchen to forage for food.

Left alone in the living room, you and Minghao fall into an easy silence, eyes glued once again to the screen. It’s always been easier to get through a movie without Mei’s commentary; this one would’ve been finished an hour ago if they hadn’t kept pausing it to ramble. You’re so immersed in it that you hardly hear the way they’re tearing through the kitchen like a cyclone. You almost miss the soft knock at the door, too.

Immediately, your optimistic eyes flick over to Minghao. He’s closer to the door, and if you stare at him long enough, he might let you stay in the armchair you’ve all but fused to.

“Nope,” he says coolly, without even looking.

Whining, you peel off the blanket you’ve wrapped yourself in and unfurl your knotted legs. You shiver when your bare feet touch the cold wood below, but bravely, you don’t retreat. You push forward on tiptoe and skip across the living room until you reach the front door.

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead when you open it to find Soonyoung standing there for the first time in several weeks. While overstaying his welcome is his signature, showing up uninvited never has been. That’s apparently one line in the sand he won’t stumble over.

“Hey,” you peep.

For reasons unknown, you have to pause to let your gaze sweep over him, like something might’ve drastically changed about him since you saw him last. There’s a tiny flutter in the center of your chest that begs you to greet him more emphatically than that, but you ignore it.

Soonyoung looks more apologetic than you’ve ever seen him, which makes your pulse quicken even more.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” he swears. “I think I left my headphones here last time. I’ve looked everywhere, I promise, but they’re just — gone.”

Your first instinct is to ask why he brought headphones to a dick appointment in the first place, but you talk yourself out of it. The next is to find out why he came all the way over here on a hunch, rather than simply texting you; he hasn’t in a while, not that you’ve taken it to heart. But you don’t do that, either, which strikes you as odd.

Instead, you step back and push the door open wider, once again letting the stray inside. “No worries,” you breeze.

Since when?

As it turns out, letting him in doesn’t bring the sky crashing down around you. Taking a single brick out of the wall you’ve fastidiously built doesn’t bring about the end of days. It just brings a shy bow and a quiet “thank you” while he toes off his shoes.

He turns to head toward your bedroom with you following behind him, but he stops short after a few steps. Crashing into his back — god, he’s broader than he looks — you grab his biceps to keep from bowling him over entirely.

“Shit — I’m so sorry.” He wheels around, failing to realize that you’re as close as you are. You can see panic light up his eyes, now mere centimeters from yours. “I didn’t realize you had somebody over.”

What is that scribbled all over his face?

It’s not anger, you know that much. Nothing about the way he’s looking at you reads like jealousy, either. If anything, he seems genuinely torn-up over what he assumes is date-crashing. Guilty, maybe.

So, why do you feel bad?

“Mei’s brother,” you explain quickly, as if he’s owed one. “Our annual horror movie marathon. We — all of us — do it every October.”

Why did you add that qualifier in there?

Soonyoung’s face brightens immediately, and you feel the tiniest bit warmer now that the corners of his mouth aren’t curved downward anymore. You wish that surprised you, but it doesn’t.

Why should it? You’ve given into him more often than not, haven’t you?

All he says is, “Oh,” in the tiniest voice you’ve ever heard, like he’s embarrassed himself for the first time in his life.

It grows quiet while the two of you continue to stand there in the half-light. If you discount the screaming, the flickering colors coming from the television screen make it feel almost — cozy?

But you’ve been gazing up at him for far too long, so you clear your throat. “Your — umm — your headphones. Do you remember where you left them?”

You nudge him slightly to get him moving, which he does without complaint.

“I think they jumped out of my pocket when you…” Soonyoung’s voice trails off. As you pass by, he glances over at Minghao, who either can’t hear your conversation or doesn’t give a shit about it.

With that indifference confirmed, Soonyoung looks back at you with a smirk. “You broke my zipper, you know. I had to take those jeans to a tailor to fix it.”

Immediately, your cheeks start burning.

Resident fuck monster, reporting for duty! Here to rip clothes to shreds and —

He touches your wrist, just for a second. “It’s cute,” he assures you, even though you haven’t said a word.

And it doesn’t do a damn thing to keep that heat from rising up your face.

You step into your bedroom before you can think of what to say in response, so you let the moment pass and flick on the light. Just as soon as he joins you inside, Soonyoung lays eyes on what he came for — which is a miracle. That thin, white cord is practically invisible under your dresser.

“Ah!” He chirps, bending down to grab it.

Looking triumphant as hell, he tucks it into the pocket of his joggers and shoots you a grin. Suddenly, you find it hard to mimic his smile, although you don’t know why.

He got what he came for, didn’t he? He’ll be out of your hair in a matter of moments, which is exactly what you’ve been demanding of him for months. You had to train him to get in and get out, and when he eventually learned, the relief was immediate.

So, why don’t you feel relieved now?

Soonyoung must hear your trains of thought derailing because he comes in hot with a distraction. As usual, it’s out of left field, just like the soft brush of his fingers on your bare arm.

“You’re cold.”

It’s not a question.

There aren’t even goosebumps on your arm; and there’s no reason why he should know by looking at you that you are, in fact, freezing. But he does, and before you can ask how the fuck that’s possible, he spins around to the dresser nearby and grabs the handle jutting out of the bottom-left drawer.

How does he —?

You open your mouth to speak. The words disappear when he stands upright again, now holding out a sweatshirt from the drawer you keep them in. He’s only seen you open it once before, and the fact that he remembers is making you dizzy.

Soonyoung’s expectant eyes lock on your face, looking at you the same way he did when he handed you those burnt fucking eggs. This time, though, you don’t hesitate to accept what he’s giving you. You tug that sweatshirt over your head without missing a beat, instantly learning that it’s much bigger on you than you remember.

Stunned, you blink back at him from underneath the hood, which obscures most of your forehead. “Is this —?”

You grab the fabric from the front of it in your hands as you look down. At first glance, it looks like the million other white sweatshirts tucked into your drawer, but —

“This isn’t mine.”

Your eyes flick back up to Soonyoung, who’s fighting for his life to bite back a smile.

Six months ago, you might’ve knocked him on his ass for this, but now, you can’t keep it together, either. You crack wide open, laughing so hard that your eyes almost disappear.

“When the hell did you sneak that in there?” You wheeze, wiping tears as they spill over your lash line. The smack you land against his arm is cloaked in a sweater paw, dealing no damage except to crack him open, too. “God, I was never going to get rid of you, was I?”

Beaming, he slips his hands into the kangaroo pocket on the front and tugs you closer; you let him. “It was just in case I get cold, I swear.”

“Is that it?” You narrow your eyes playfully. “Are you sure?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, although you don’t believe him for a second. “It does look good on you, though. Maybe you should hang on to it.”

“To the sweatshirt?”

Watching him blush like that may never get old. Still, he maintains his bluff and nods.

“Yeah. I mean, why not? Right? It’s comfortable.” He shrugs, not even the slightest bit casually. “A cotton blend, I think. Pre-shrunk, so… It’ll — uh, never be your size, I guess. That’s — um — that’s kind of a bummer, but…”

“Soonyoung!” You cut him off with a breathless laugh, prompting him to shut his rambling mouth.

The rare use of his name seems to startle him. His eyes go wide with that typical, hopeful anticipation that he never seems to leave home without. That look hasn’t disappeared after six months of getting shot down on a weekly basis, and neither has the way he hangs onto every word you say.

This time, it might actually be what he’s been waiting to hear.

“Do you….?”

It might be a new personal record, you caving like this after holding someone at arm’s length for so long. The relief is automatic, spreading through muscle that you didn’t even realize had been aching.

“If you’re not busy, do you want to stay?”

#svt #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #hoshi smut #soonyoung smut #hoshi fluff #soonyoung fluff #svt fic #svt smut #svt fluff #jade writes #re: sweatshirt season #ksy #kvanity

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kyeomsense · 2 months

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what svt’s hyung line gets you for valentine’s day

genre | fluff, svt x gn!reader

wc | 440 and then some <3

seungcheol

he’s seen everything you’ve been eyeing since early january. when the 14th rolls around, he showers you in a mountain if gift boxes. each one contains an expensive clothing, bag, or accessory. seungcheol makes it clear that any pretty penny spent on you is worth it to see you smile.

jeonghan

he isn’t sure exactly what you want. he’s not the type to go all out and buy you something super expensive. instead, jeonghan opts for a more sentimental approach; a new disposable camera and two bus passes to the beach. the two of you fill the camera with goofy smiles, clinking glasses over pasta dishes, and calm memories in the sand at dusk.

joshua

joshua’s been planning a bracelet design for you since december. he’s been picking at chains, custom ordering charms, and hand-crafting trinkets. the whole thing really comes together in late january, when he finishes adding the final few pearls and clamps each metal ring closed. it’s not much, but he wears the biggest smile when he hands it to you at his meticulously planned candle-lit dinner.

jun

he’s a bit unsure if his gift is good enough. it’s corny and makes him cringe a little, but he decides to move forward with it. one visit to build-a-bear later, jun presents you an obnoxiously large teddy bear with a recorded voice message he begs you not to listen to when he’s around. despite the low quality speaker, you can make out the words “i love you, forever and always.”

soonyoung

valentine’s has never been soonyoung’s strongest holiday. he’s a practical gift-giver, and his mind goes blank when he tries to think of a gift for you. but, a few phone calls and pep talks later, he finally presents you with a pretty necklace with the initials “KSY” dangling from the chain. you notice his own necklace later, with your initials decorating his neck.

wonwoo

he gifts you a scrapbook full of memories. the tickets from your first date at the local fair, a photo of the abysmal snowman the two of you made last december, a receipt from the burger joint you both frequented on late nights when sleep wouldn’t come, along with candid photos of the two of you.

jihoon

he hates that it’s the only thing he can think of, but he does it anyway. after weeks spent locked in his studio, shuffling through lyrics, melodies, and rhythms, he manages to polish off a song before he plays it for you. despite his usually shy demeanor, he performs it for you at night, acoustic guitar and all.

a/n | back after a while! maknae line should be out soon

#svt x reader #svt fluff #svt drabbles #seungcheol fluff #jeonghan x reader #seungcheol x reader #jeonghan fluff #joshua fluff #joshua x reader #jun x reader #jun fluff #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #jihoon fluff #jihoon x reader

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beomboomboom · 2 months

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Horanghae

genre: fluff

pairing: husband!Soonyoung x reader

summary: who knew watching your husband try and convince his kids he's a tiger could be so entertaining?

warnings: a little bit suggestive

note: The way I can see Hoshi doing this in real life- 😭. Enjoyy <33

"I'm a tiger"

"Rawrr"

You watched, amused, as Soonyoung says the statement again, only to be met with the giggles of your kids.

"No, daddy, YOU'RE NOT," your daughter, Haru, accuses while letting out tiny giggles at your husband's silly antics.

"If you're a tiger, then how come you're walking on two legs?" your son, Dae, questions teasingly while narrowing his eyes at his father.

"Well-," Soonyoung starts to say while trying to find a logical explanation, but fails to think up of one, opting for a switch in topic instead. "Well, it doesn't matter because you two have got to go to bed."

Smiling softly from the doorway, you watch as your two kids obey and begrudgingly get under their covers and prepare to go to sleep.

"But daddy-"

"Hey, it's bedtime now," your husband says softly but still commanding as he then leans down to give Haru and Dae a small kiss on the cheek.

"Oh but before we go to bed, what do we do?" Soonyoung asks playfully as he takes out his hand to form his iconic horangae pose.

'Horanghaee"

You let out a quiet laugh at the sight. Your husband and two kids all in a circle holding up their hand in a horanghae pose while scrunching their noses lovingly at one another.

"Okay, it's time for bedtime guys, you need to get your sleep," you say as you walk into the room, interrupting the sweet moment between your husband and kids.

"Awww-"

"Do we HAVE tooo"

Smiling at your kid's whines, you give a simple yes as you kiss both Dae and Haru's foreheads softly and tuck them in.

"Sweet dreams," both you and your husband say as you flick off the lights and shut the bedroom door.

The second the door shuts, Soonyoung leans his whole body weight on you. "How are they so cute~" Soonyoung squeals as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder.

"Because they're made from your-," you start to say but quickly get interrupted by Soonyoung's tiny shove of embarrassment. "Heyyy, you can't stay stuff like that after we just put our kids to bed."

"I meant genes idiot, what were you thinking?" You say, laughing at the way your husband's expression turns from shocked and accusing to embarrassment.

"I was thinking we should try to have another cute child," Soonyoung teasingly replies before dodging your light shove and letting out a quiet scream.

"I think you need to go to bed, something's wrong with your head," you say annoyed, but deep down you're amused, and you know your husband can tell.

"mhmmm...okay i'll go to bed with you," Soonyoung says teasingly with a smirk on his face.

"I meant go to bed to sleep, get your head out of the gutter," you say with a playful shove.

As you get under the covers with your husband you can't help but feel a sense of bliss and happiness. "Horanghae," you hear Soonyoung whisper with a fond smile as he presses his lips onto yours and goes to bed.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #hoshi fanfic #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung imagines #hoshi x you #hoshi x y/n #soonyoung x you #soonyoung x y/n

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hannieehaee · 6 months

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content: idol!hoshi x idol!you, fluff, pining, hoshi's kind of a loser (but a cute one), slightlyyyy suggestive at the very end.

wc: 401

part 2

masterlist

idol!hoshi who has been crushing on idol!you for years ever since he saw you mc'ing during one of seventeen's comebacks

having debuted a few years before seventeen, hoshi was able to see your group's debut and growth for a couple of years as he prepared for his own debut, always taking a special interest to you above your groupmates.

despite being in the same idol generation as you, he found himself admiring your work ethic, the way you danced, the way you'd handle yourself on stage, the way your skills improved over the years, how pretty you looked on stage, the way you were everything he wanted in a girl, and was overall very taken by you (something which all his members caught onto very quick).

what hoshi first believed to be innocent admiration for you as an idol suddenly turned into more as soon as he was able to finally meet you backstage during one of seventeen's first comeback shows.

unfortunately for hoshi, his relationship with you would remain simply that; just a few polite bows at each other whenever you ended up scheduled for a comeback show in the same week.

it wasnt until a few years later, when your group was acquired and promptly moved to hybe that hoshi's hopes of (at least) befriending you began to bug at him once more.

whenever either of your groups had a comeback, hoshi would fight his members (and sometimes even your members behind your back) to let him pair up with you any time either of your groups collabed for a quick tiktok challenge.

he'd peek his head outside the practice room to catch your eyes as you arrived at yours, timing his breaks on time with yours to drop by snd say hi.

he'd occasionally wait by the idol-designated entrance at hybe to spot you and pretend he had just arrived in order to share the long elevator ride with you.

at this point his crush was obvious to everyone but himself, even to you. what hoshi believed to be subtlety was extremely obvious to you, although very endearing.

you eventually decided to put him out of his misery, asking him over to your place under the vice of 'helping you out with a difficult choreography.'

hoshi, being hoshi, believed your words to be literal. you, however, were planning to make his years-long dreams come true as soon as you got him alone in your apartment.

n/a: i was gonna end this in smut but idk how to write smut in bulleted format. let me know if u guys want a part two of them getting together 😭 (update: pt. 2 linked at the top!)

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt #svt fanfic #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #hoshi x reader #hoshi fanfic #hoshi scenarios #hoshi imagines #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung fluff #seventeen fluff

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babyleostuff · 2 months

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౨ৎ voicemails kwon soonyoung leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby)

...one: you made me promise to call when we land, so (pause) we’re here. now go to bed and stop worrying. we’re all safe. have sweet dreams baby

...two: be honest. do you think mingyu has better boobs than me? wait. don’t answer. i don’t want to know. though i think i know the answer. i’m going to make his life a living hell

...three: did you get that video i sent you of me dancing? what do you think? did i do a good job? did you like it?

...four: i don’t think i’ve ever been this bored before. i hope you’re doing better than me because this is a nightmare. really wish you were here

...five: when we were out for a walk today, i saw two cats and one of them was hitting the other on the head and i immediately thought of us

...six: how are you baby? (pause) i’m starting to miss your voice

...seven: i’m sure you've told me this before, but will you be watching the livestream today? i don’t know why but it’s comforting knowing that you’ll be there. kind of. you know what i mean

...eight: i’m so hungry right now, i’ll eat the whole buffet when we get back to the hotel. wait, did you eat today? if not i’m ordering takeout to your house

...nine: i never realised how lonely i am without you in my arms

...ten: only a week left. i really miss you

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @asasilentreader @mrsnervous

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wqnwoos · 7 months

Text

kwon soonyoung is hopeless at subtlety.

when a guy who’s never touched a book that wasn’t absolutely necessary for an exam suddenly starts lingering around the campus library, it becomes noticeable. it becomes more noticeable when it’s soonyoung, as the popular dance captain and renowned party thrower that he is.

hell, even you’ve noticed, and you’re usually miles and miles away, in a world of your own. when you’re not helping students find books or scanning out their required readings, you’re sitting behind the student librarian desk reading your own books, or studying, or, in some of your lesser moments, scrolling through tiktok. you don’t pay too much attention to who comes in and out, but the thing about soonyoung is that he demands attention.

not him himself, that would be obnoxious. but it’s the bleached hair, and handsome features, and just the fact that he seems to know everyone around here. so yeah, his face becomes recognisable with each day he skulks into the library, dithering between shelves that you never would have assumed held his interest.

today, however, is the first day he actually borrows a book. he waltzes up to the counter carrying, surprisingly, a jane austen — persuasion. which is only one of the greatest novels ever written, but you restrain yourself from blurting that out, instead asking for his name and typing it in.

he’s quieter than you’ve seen him be, around campus with his friends. gentle, almost — shy, too, with the way his cheeks pink when you repeat his name, and the way he drums his fingers nervously on the book.

a moment later, your brows are furrowing at the words that pop up. “um. soonyoung? it says here you last borrowed a book… three years ago. and you didn’t return it.”

the boy in front of you practically goes scarlet. “shit,” he curses, quiet but emphatic. “which book?”

you cast another glance to the computer screen. “um, diary of a wimpy kid. cabin fever.”

he passes one hand over his embarrassed face; it seems that a meagre amount of words is enough to reduce him to a fumbling mess. he drops persuasion, picks it up, slides it back over to you, and, with a strained voice, says, “i’ll find it! i’ll bring it tomorrow. cross my heart.”

and, much to your surprise, ten minutes before you shift ends the next day, kwon soonyoung is running breathlessly through the library double doors; he meets your eyes and brandishes a battered looking copy of cabin fever with a triumphant grin and needless declaration;

“i found it!” he drops it with a satisfying thunk, and you can’t help the amused smile that breaks out onto your face. “you won’t believe where it was,” he continues, shaking his head. “it’s probably best if i don’t even tell you — anyway!” he cuts himself off before you can think too deeply about what that means. “do i have to pay a fine?”

“no,” you say, and bring forward the copy of persuasion he’d been eyeing yesterday. “do you still want this, by the way? i kept it to the side in case you came back for it.”

he beams, and it’s like the sun’s in front of you: bright, warm, lovely. “you did? thank you, ___. actually… you finish up in a few minutes, right?”

“i — yes,” you say slowly, squinting at him. “how do you know that?”

“i’ve been coming here every day for two and a half weeks trying to get the courage to talk to you, and i accidentally memorised your schedule doing that,” he admits with a shameless grin. before you can even process that, he’s suddenly looking a lot shyer; but he taps the cover of the book between you, and continues: “so, um, could i… persuade you to get a coffee with me?”

you can’t help it — you laugh, much louder than library regulations allow, but you can’t bring yourself to care when soonyoung is looking at you, half-hopeful, half-sheepish. “did you pick this book just to — ”

“yes,” he interjects, cheeks flushing. “i was desperate!”

you pretend to consider. “so… you’re not an austen fan?”

“i am if you are,” he says instantly.

again, you laugh, but this time you add an answer. “in that case,” you say, lips curving upward. “i’d love to get a coffee with you.”

an / requested by the lovely lovely @etherealyoungk !! hope u like it skye <3

taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

#seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #soonyoung x you #seventeen fluff #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung x reader #seventeen fic #hoshi fic #soonyoung fic

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beomcoups · 17 days

Text

Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia. Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would “make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did.

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend.

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you. You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop.

I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

“What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night.

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.”

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.”

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.”

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.”

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition.

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?”

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to.

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off.

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier.

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon.

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head.

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing.

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them.

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic.

You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.”

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.”

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying.

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.”

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.”

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that.

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.”

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future.

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.”

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

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