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bloompompom · 4 days

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Always the Quiet Ones*

*this is a revamped reupload of my previous fic

✽ summary: eren mistakenly took his new lab partner for being quiet, only to discover she was so much more than that. ✽ content: ~12.5k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, college au, one shot, mutual pining, smut, fluff, casual sex, praise, light spanking, explicit consent, alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised. 18+ ✽ a/n: i just really missed this fic </3

It was the honest-to-God truth when Eren said he wasn’t looking to catch feelings for anyone. But then you came along.

You were harmless enough—nothing more than his quiet lab partner in anatomy. He didn’t know what to think of you, other than you had a tendency to keep to yourself. On the rare occasion you spoke up, your words were always brief, pertinent to whatever assignment was at hand. But more often than not, you’d only address Eren with a cursory nod when he’d take his assigned seat beside you.

The class was awful enough, with two-hour labs being the worst part of Eren’s week because he spent them in a fumbling and awkward silence. But if you wouldn’t bother to glance up from your book when you talked to him, then he would treat you the same. He brought the bare minimum to conversations. He gave one-word answers; a specific grunt for yes, another for no, each you had to learn.

He couldn’t help but wonder why you were, for lack of better words, like that. Quiet. Standoffish. Withdrawn. He had a few theories on the matter—only because lectures were just that boring. His most probable theory was that you were shy. That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps you were the type of student who took her classes way too seriously. He guessed you to be in your third year, like him. Maybe you were trying to get into a competitive graduate program. Or maybe you really liked anatomy. You seemed to like the textbook an awful lot, always reading far too closely in the way nerds do in cartoons. But other times, it was almost as if you were avoiding looking him in the eye.

Then there were the days—usually when Eren felt particularly disgruntled—that your quietness irked him to no end. He knew it was irrational to care so much, but damn it, why were you like that? And all the time, too. You must be stuck up. What else could he blame your perpetually cold shoulder on? He wasn’t proud of it, but sometimes he believed you were a bitch. Simple as that.

Eren’s theories could go on and on, but they all skirted the truth. At least, you didn’t think yourself a bitch. No, the reason behind your reserved demeanor was much more straightforward than that.

You had a stupid crush on Eren.

A girlish, twirling-your-hair-around-your-finger middle school crush. That made your stomach feel hollow and full, somehow at once, and had you gushing to your roommate despite knowing you’d never act on it.

It’d been like this since last semester, though you weren’t even sure Eren knew of your existence until Professor Hange partnered up the two of you.

God. Thinking about it now still riddled you with anxiety. You swore up and down that you were going to die that day. Like actually keel over from a heart attack in the middle of class and die.

In another universe, perhaps this forced proximity would have excited you. Maybe he would have given you his phone number to text about homework, and in that universe, you would have been giddy over it.

Unfortunately for you, in this universe, anatomy was far from your strongest subject. Very, very far.

You drove yourself mad over all the ways you’d inevitably embarrass yourself in front of Eren, lab after lab. It terrified you to where you wouldn’t dare ask him a question. What if you sounded dumb? So you’d press on without having him repeat himself and only scribble down what little you could manage.

It was despicable. It was despicable, and you knew it, and you still didn’t change a thing because it was much easier to pretend Eren wasn’t there to begin with. Even if it meant you’d started seeing your grade slip.

You hoped to keep that—and your crush—a secret, but there was one day he got a bit too nosy for your liking.

Professor Hange handed your lab report back, face down, like always. You knew professors did that for everyone, no matter the grade, but sometimes the rule felt targeted at you.

You didn’t want to, but you forced yourself to peel back the corner and take a peek. Unsurprisingly, a lousy grade met you on the other side. Again.

For someone wanting to hide their score, you weren’t as careful as you should have been when sliding the paper into your folder. Eren leaned back in his seat, just far enough to steal a glimpse from over your shoulder. For research, obviously. If you liked anatomy so much, then you must be pretty good at the subject.

But what he saw surprised him, especially when thought about his grade in the class. It slipped out on a chuckle when he said, “Wow. Are you even writing anything down?”

You startled, slamming your folder shut. “Huh?”

You couldn’t tell if Eren was joking or not. He was, but it didn’t come across as lighthearted as he had hoped. He often let his thoughts carelessly spill into words, but you didn’t know about that nasty habit of his. All you could think was shit, because he had finally figured out that you had no idea what you were doing.

Admittedly, Eren felt a little guilty once he saw the panic wash over your face. He cracked a smile at you, maybe for the first time. Still, his eyebrows furrowed in pity, like he couldn’t hold it back.

“The lab,” Eren clarified. He pointed to the crumpled paper, half in the folder, half poking out. “We do them together every week. How are you screwing up that badly?”

What kind of question was that? You gave him a hard frown and regretted thinking he’d be anything more than curt with you. Pity brows or not, you weren’t feeling much sympathy from him.

You didn’t reply, just stared past him blankly as you imagined how this horrible moment would torment you as you tried to fall asleep that night. You only snapped from it when you heard his chair drag against the tile. He sighed—a bit too loudly for you to consider natural—then started putting his belongings into his backpack.

“Look,” Eren began. He glanced up at you once he’d zipped his bag shut. His eyes made you flighty. “You don’t have to get stuck with a shitty grade. I bet I can help.”

His voice was flat, and you didn’t like his delivery much, but beneath it, there was a glint of kindness. You weren’t sure where it came from, and frankly, neither did Eren. He attributed it to his guilt for speaking so thoughtlessly. It was hard not to, what with the way your face—always so stoic that he’d think you were made of marble—turned sullen. He didn’t like how it made him feel. More than that, he disliked knowing you could pull such a reaction from him.

“You still have my number, yeah?” Eren asked.

You nodded. You did, in fact, still have his phone number. It was in the top corner of the first page of your notebook. He wrote it down after your first class together like you hoped he would. You decided not to do anything with it. You didn’t even save it, too worried about the possibility of drunk texting him.

“Good,” he said. “We can meet up sometime to study together.”

“Okay, yeah. Thanks,” you said, quietly at first, but your confidence grew with each word when you realized this might not have to become one of your top ten most embarrassing memories.

“Sure.” Eren stood up and swung his backpack over his shoulder. He smiled at you again. It was real this time, big enough to make your stomach flip. “I can’t let my lab partner flunk out on me.”

So that was where everything began. And by ‘everything,’ you meant how you and Eren would study together occasionally. Nothing more. Definitely not the fun sort of studying—you know, like having him study your anatomy rather than the pictures in his textbook. Oh, well. You could still dream.

It took two study dates (your term for them) before you didn’t sit on the edge of your seat around Eren. As lame as it sounded, he made you incredibly nervous, more nervous than you felt around him in class. And like in class, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes on your text. You knew if you looked at him, you’d turn into a pile of goo before you could even look away.

It was shameful to admit, but you’d catch yourself stealing glances at him, but only when you were certain he wouldn’t notice. The times when he was jotting down notes because you liked how he looked when he was pensive. His dark brows would sit low over his eyes, and his bottom lip would jut out ever so slightly. And sometimes, only when truly stumped, he’d run his fingers through his hair in thought. You liked that, too.

By the time midterms had come and gone, you started seeing Eren more and more, meeting outside of class twice a week—a third if you had a report due. By then, it was impossible to allow your heart to flutter every time you were around him, otherwise it was bound to give out.

What you wanted to call study dates quickly became what felt like tutoring lessons. And just to be clear, you were not the tutor. But after Eren had you convinced his willingness to help was genuine, you didn’t worry as much about sounding dumb. He never seemed bothered when he had to explain a topic, even if you went overboard with the questions.

It was nice to not have to think so hard around him. He’d poke fun at you because you always mixed up dorsal and ventral, and you never let him live down spelling ‘brain’ as ‘brian.’ “It was one time,” he’d always complain back to you.

After getting scolded one too many times in the library for goofing off, other spots around campus had to make do. Then that turned into you going to Eren’s place, just a five-minute walk from your lab building.

Eren lived in a house with three other boys. Jean, Connie, and Armin. You found Jean and Connie to be nice enough based on the handful of conversations you had with them. But Eren blamed them for the reason you didn’t study at the house often, accusing them of being too distracting to think straight.

Eren wouldn’t ever tell you this—hell, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d confess this to—but the real reason he didn’t like to study at his place was Armin.

Armin. Eren’s blonde best friend for the last ten years. His roommate that you would describe as cute as a button and sharp as a tack. He knew much more about anatomy than you and Eren. When Armin was bored, he’d join you on the couch and answer the questions Eren couldn’t.

He couldn’t pinpoint why it bothered him so much. He always knew Armin was smarter than him; it had never been a problem before, but now it irked him ceaselessly. Instead of trying to sort it out, he decided going to your apartment was the better solution. Your roommate, Hitch, was more tolerable.

It was near final exam week when it hit you, a smack-across-the-face reminder that you still had a crush on Eren. It happened when your study dates became less of a one-on-one thing and more like a group hangout.

You were friendly, something between classmates and acquaintances, with the peers sitting around you. One girl, Mina, told you she, Thomas, and Samuel were getting together to prepare for the upcoming final. She insisted you and Eren should join.

You didn’t respond right away. You couldn’t, not with the way your stomach churned when Eren answered for you.

“She needs all the help she can get,” he said, giving you a playful pay on the shoulder. He was only joking, but you wished he didn’t sound so eager. You especially wished his hand, innocently placed on your back, didn’t make your face burn.

You got over it quickly. It was difficult to stay bitter at people you got along well with, so much so that you’d accomplish more chatting than studying. Luckily for the rest of you, Eren and Thomas knew enough to help you skate by.

But when Eren began texting in the new group chat more than he’d text you, you weren’t afraid to say you noticed a sting. It felt like you’d let your chances with him slip by because, next semester, you wouldn’t be his lab partner anymore.

You left the exam feeling okay at best. You walked out with your head down, not paying any attention as Mina caught up to you. She invited you to come by her place that Friday night, that some of your classmates would be there to celebrate the end of Professor Hange’s pop quizzes. You thought little about it when you said yes.

You were at the get-together for an hour, maybe longer, when someone was drunk enough to start a game of Never Have I Ever. After your second beer, you felt just adventurous enough to play.

Mina’s living room was on the smaller side for hosting, but it was nice enough. She had everyone crowd around, sitting where they could, whether it was on the sofa or the floor, and in the center was an old beer. It’d warmed from sitting out for a few hours, according to Samuel, and chugging it would serve as punishment for putting the last of your fingers down. And while you were tipsy, you certainly hadn’t drunk enough for that.

You would, of course. But you didn’t know it then.

You sat on the floor, legs folded to your chest, with your hand growing tired in the air. Only your index finger remained standing when Mina shouted it was her turn.

“Never have I ever had a body count higher than five,” she announced.

A few people put a finger down, but it didn’t matter. You let your forehead drop to your knees in defeat. Everyone started laughing, hounding you to drink the beer when you whined, “Do I have to?”

If you weren’t busy downing that lukewarm can, pouting as you went, and your audience wasn’t too busy heckling you, maybe someone would have noticed how Eren went quiet, how a firm crease formed just between his unsettled brows.

He couldn’t articulate the feeling, but it reminded him of the one he got when he saw you laugh with Armin. Some strange burning, uncomfortably deep in his stomach. It made him not want to look at you any longer.

Your body count didn’t offend him. After all, he had to put a finger down for the same reason. Though you surprised him, he had to admit, but that wasn’t new. The more he learned about you, the more he realized his assumptions about you couldn’t have been more off—specifically the ones about you being a bitch and good at anatomy.

Eren studied you from across the room. Your nose crinkled; giggles spilled from you as you tried, for the second time, to finish the rest of the beer. Eren had heard you laugh—many times, actually—but something about it always made his chest go tight.

His thoughts ventured further, wandering, wondering if you crinkle your nose the same way when you come.

He could see you beneath him, naked. Brows pinched together cutely, teeth dipped into your swollen bottom lip. He could feel your thighs under his hands, soft and giving under his palms as he slipped between—

It was so wrong of him. To be in a room full of people and pretend as if you were the only two people there. The only two people to exist.

That swarming in his gut burned hotter. He took another sip of his beer like it would dull it.

There was a moment of doubt. Almost like a hangnail, he could pick and pick at it until he created a wound of his own making. What was so wrong with him that made you uninterested?

He could deny naming the sick feeling as much as he wanted, but Eren knew what it was: insecurity. He was jealous of people he didn’t even know, for no other reason than they had the chance to be with you in all the ways he craved.

He felt fucking pathetic for it.

Eren didn’t stay at the party long after that. You left Mina’s just before midnight and didn’t think of much of that night, or Eren, for the rest of the weekend. On Monday, you checked your final grade for anatomy, and by some miracle, you passed the class.

It was well into winter break when you saw Eren again. You bumped into him at a house party, when there was about a week left until classes started and everyone was trickling back to campus to celebrate the new year.

You didn’t expect to see him this soon—actually, you weren’t so sure you’d ever see him again. Anatomy was the only glue holding you together. You wished you could say you had more faith in the friendship, in him, but he hadn’t talked to you since Mina’s party. You thought he would have at least been curious to know how you did in the class.

It was probably better this way, you told yourself, considering you nearly failed the class because of him. Well, you technically passed because of him too, but you wouldn’t have needed to worry about failing if he wasn’t your lab partner.

All that for a silly crush.

You stumbled into Eren toward the end of the night, the time when parties turn spacey and liminal; the limbo dividing night and day. A few lights were on now, and whoever was in charge of the music had clearly given up a while ago. Everything was a not-so-subtle sign pointing toward the exit.

Believe it or not, you wanted nothing more than to go home. You would have been out of there thirty minutes ago if it weren’t for Hitch. Your loveable, yet self-proclaimed ditzy roommate had disappeared.

By the time you thought to search for her, you had already drunk past your limit. You were dizzy, starving, and having poked your head into every room and around every corner. No Hitch, but you walked in on a lot of dry humping.

The last time you saw her, she was one of those dry humpers. She was all over some guy you guessed to be the reason she wanted to come to the party. Anyway, you were sure you’d catch his name tomorrow morning.

You were too distracted, too bubbly from the leftover New Year’s champagne, to see what was in front of you—even if he was rather tall, broad, and hard to miss. You didn’t even look twice as you walked past Eren. He’d only grabbed your attention once you heard your name, disappointed that the voice was too deep to belong to Hitch.

You spun around and the floor tilted with you. It took you a few steps to straighten back out, but once you did, your vision settled on Eren.

He gave you a lop-sided smile, serving as nothing more than a hesitant greeting. He only made it more awkward by throwing in a cheeky, “Long time, no see.”

You offered a chuckle that was only half-forced, the other half genuine simply because it was easy to impress anyone after they’d spent the night drinking.

And because you’d spent the night drinking, you felt all weird when you looked at Eren. You weren’t upset with him—maybe disappointed. Not disappointed in him exactly, he never owed you his kindness, but disappointed by what could have been.

But now that he was here, getting shoved closer and closer with each passerby, you didn’t know what to think other than you should’ve skipped that last drink. You’d hoped to feel more like yourself the next time you saw Eren. The last thing you wanted was to get tangled up in him again; you weren’t sure you’d be able to unravel yourself a second time.

Eren took a willing pace toward you. Your gaze was boozy, eyes hazy and distant. He recognized the look and had a feeling you wouldn’t speak first, so he asked, “Were you looking for someone?”

“Hitch,” you said. There was a pause. You weren’t sure if he remembered he’d met her. “My roommate.”

“I know.”

“We were supposed to leave to get food, but I think she took a guy home,” you told him, for no reason in particular. “Last time this happened, I walked in on them doing it on the counter.”

Eren laughed, harder once your face winced at the memory, a sight seared into your brain, for sure. “You should really consider finding a new roommate.”

“And in the meantime?”

“You come back to my place,” he said, so casually that you were positive you didn’t hear him right. Your face must have given you away, and he tried to play it off with a shrug. “What’s the big deal? You’ve slept on my couch before.”

He was right. You’d fallen asleep on his couch while studying once. Okay, twice. He teased you about it, saying you got drool everywhere.

“That’s different,” you said sheepishly. “That was an accident.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place,” he teased.

“Maybe you shouldn’t make your flashcards so boring!”

Eren liked his simple flashcards. He actually preferred them. Not everyone needed to spend more time color-coding and highlighting their flashcards than studying them.

He tilted his head with the sort of look that said, stop being so stubborn. "Fine. Then how about you tell me how to make them look nicer on the way to my place? I was just about to leave, anyway.”

He took a step backward, daring you to follow, and then another, until he turned on one foot and headed for the front door. He knew you’d follow him, and thoughtlessly, you did, trailing right behind.

You called out to him, “You don’t really need them now, do you? The class is over.”

“I just thought you might need ‘em.” Eren bounded down the porch steps, tossing a glance over his shoulder, ready to catch the expression you’d make when he said, “Figured you had to retake the class.”

You wished you had shoved him down the steps, but he had already crossed the lawn. He walked with longer strides than you and didn’t seem concerned about whether you could keep up.

“Thanks for that,” you replied begrudgingly.

“Anytime.”

It didn’t take long for you to near campus. You walked along the main drag, lined with various bars and late-night bites that thrived in the college town’s nightlife. It made it impossible to tell the time, what with every club still playing music loud enough to thrum in your chest, its beat perfectly in tempo with your every step—those of which were still struggling to match Eren’s.

“Did you still want to get food?” he asked.

“Hm?” You couldn’t hear him over your shuffling, your feet dragging against the sidewalk. They’d started hurting hours ago, and this jaunt certainly wasn’t making it better. You really shouldn’t have worn the new shoes you received over the holidays.

“You never listen, do you?” Eren didn’t say it with annoyance but with a laugh. “I’m surprised you’ve made it this far.”

“No, you just mumble a lot,” you defended. “And for your information, I’m not retaking anatomy. I passed with a C.”

“A C-plus or a C-minus?”

“Plus,” you said with inflated, drunken confidence.

“I’ll alert the media,” Eren replied. You stuck your tongue out at him, though you knew he wouldn’t see it. “Now tell me, did you still want to get food or not?”

“I didn’t think it was still an option.”

“‘Course it is.” He finally looked back at you from over his shoulder, just in time to watch you stumble over a crack in the sidewalk. “I think you could use something to eat.”

Eren rounded the next corner, a block short of the street he lived on, and led you a few doors down to a diner, breakfast served 24 hours. You expected to flag down a street vendor over sitting down to eat, but you couldn’t complain about some drunk pancakes.

Eren chose the booth in the back after the hostess instructed you to seat yourselves. The place was small and smelled of stale coffee—just as any diner would at this hour. And stale or not, you knew you’d need to down a mug or two if you wanted to sober up.

The server flipped your ceramic mug over and filled it to the brim. If it were nine in the morning, steam would pour out like it did in the movies, but you didn’t want to know how long this coffee had sat out.

You took it with cream, then dumped some sugar in, too. Reaching for a second packet, you caught Eren staring as you tore it open, hands folded around his mug.

“Something the matter?” you asked.

“Want any coffee with your sugar?”

“Ha-ha.” You added the sugar, now out of spite. When you took your first sip, it tasted as bitter as you expected.

Now that you were off your feet, the pain gnawed at you. You wiggled your shoes down, just enough for your heels to slip free from the backs. But it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t bear to keep them on another second—the diner was empty anyway. Once they were off, your feet pulsed as if they had their own heartbeat.

The server took your order before disappearing again, only making rounds to offer a warm-up here or there, one of which you accepted. This time, when you added another packet of sugar, Eren kept his comments to himself. There was a lapse in conversation, one you spent fiddling with the paper scraps.

“You know,” he started. You peered up from the wad you’d rolled between your thumb and forefinger. He sat back in the booth, looking out the window with a quiet sort of chuckle. “I thought you hated me when we first met.”

You matched the laugh, yours more disbelieving. “Hated you? I don’t think I knew you enough to hate you.”

As if he were thinking aloud, he said, “You were always so quiet.”

“Being quiet doesn’t mean you hate someone.”

Eren’s eyes flashed from the window to you. “Then what does it mean?”

It was easier to talk to him when he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze felt smothering. You avoided him, your attention retreating down to the spoon you twirled anxiously around your mug. The clanging of ceramic was the only sound between you because you still hadn’t responded.

“I don’t know,” you said, hoping you would have come up with a more profound answer by now. “It just means you’re quiet, I guess.”

A short stack of pancakes interrupted Eren, slid right between the two of you and decorated with a gooey scoop of butter. He’d only ordered a coffee, even after you insisted on paying as a thank-you for tonight, so once the server left, Eren was quick to jump back into the conversation, much to your dismay.

“But you’re not quiet, and you’re not all that shy either,” he told you like he’d caught you in a lie. You urged him on with a raised brow. He scoffed. “Don’t give me that. I know that’s not you. I saw you dancing tonight.”

Your hand stalled as you reached for the syrup. “You saw me dancing?”

He played it off with, “Well, yeah. My so-called quiet lab partner actually knows how to dance? It just surprised me, that’s all.”

“If you saw me earlier,” you said, forking a slice of pancake, “why didn’t you come and say hi?”

Strike that—Eren almost played it off. He couldn’t hide his shifty eyes, or how long it took him to excuse it away. “Oh, I think someone grabbed me for a game of beer pong or something. I don’t remember.”

That never happened. Eren knew it, and it looked like you knew it, too. The truth was he didn’t go up and talk to you because he’d spent the last two weeks convincing himself he wasn’t into you. The party turned out to be the ultimate test of willpower, which he so evidently failed.

Eren even went as far as reinstalling all the dating apps he’d long sworn off. He dumbly assumed if he went on a date, maybe even brought a girl home, then he’d be in the clear; he wouldn’t think about you anymore. But by the time dinner was over, Eren knew there wasn’t any use in taking things further. He’d spent the evening comparing her to you, finding himself every time she laughed because it didn’t sound like yours.

Then he saw you tonight. Of course, he had to see you tonight. And of all the things you could have been doing, you were dancing. Having fun, enjoying yourself. He favored you like that, when you were carefree. You were nothing like the girl he thought he met in class.

And when Eren heard your laugh—strangely more remarkable than any other, like he’d gone deaf to anything but you—he couldn’t even remember why he tried to stay away from you.

But here you were, seated across the booth from him, cheeks stuffed with pancakes, and he had no clue what he was supposed to do next. He’d spent the entire walk wrangling with himself, scared that if he had you, even in the most innocent of ways, he wouldn’t be able to get enough.

Eren knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, not yet, because—fuck, what if you still didn’t want him back?

Eren only lied about beer pong because he couldn’t outright confess to needing a drink before talking to you. He was so close to getting away with it, too. If you’d gone for another bite a second earlier, if he’d thought to take a sip of coffee to cover his face, maybe you wouldn’t have spotted the flushed bridge of his nose. So subtle yet telling enough that you had to bite your inner lip to prevent a smile.

You held your fork before your face, inspecting the square of pancake as a string of syrup dripped onto the plate. You were rather flippant about it when you finally told Eren, “It’s because I had a crush on you.”

“Huh?”

You plopped the pancake into your mouth, chewing so slowly that it nearly killed Eren. Once you swallowed, you finally said, “I had a crush on you. That’s why I was so quiet.”

Eren said nothing in return, even with you staring him straight in the face, expectant. You waited—for what felt like an eternity but was more like a second—until you couldn’t take the ambivalence any longer.

Your half-laugh fell flat as you went on to explain, “That, and you always got better grades than me. I didn’t want you to think I was dumb.”

Almost as if he didn’t hear it, still fixed on what you’d said before, he asked, “Do you still?”

It was a simple question, just three words, yet he said so much more than intended.

You knew what he was asking, but you played dumb. “Still what?”

“Have a crush on me.”

You thought it over while you took another bite, eyes on him like he already had the answer. He did. You both did. Still, you let the question hang heavy between you for another moment. You weren’t entirely ready to lay your cards on the table. Yet.

You tossed him a small smile as you answered, “To be determined.”

Eren nodded once, lips folded together in a similar sort of grin. “Got it.”

That didn’t mean your answer satisfied him, though. He watched as you took another sip of coffee, then immediately reached for another sugar packet. Before you could pour it in, he shielded the mug.

“But you better figure it out before all that sugar kills you.”

You swatted him away. “Yeah, it’ll definitely be the sugar that kills me, not the keg stand I started the night with.”

“You did a keg stand?”

He said it like he didn’t believe you. You giggled, “Only because Hitch talked me into it.”

Eren laughed with you despite shaking his head. “See, what did I say? You surprise me.”

You had only taken a few hobbles out of the diner before your heels started hurting again. The pain intensified with every step, and you sucked your teeth sharply. You noticed two fresh blisters, one on each heel, when you put your shoes back on before leaving, but thought you could handle the short walk to Eren’s house. But now, you wished you were still drunk enough to ignore the burn.

“Everything okay back there?” Eren asked.

You were behind him again, but not because of his long strides. “Yeah.”

He thought it sounded unconvincing. He looked back to confirm his hunch just in time to see you stumble.

“It’s my shoes,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

He stopped walking, turning to you. “Why are you apologizing?”

You stammered, “I don’t know.”

“Just take ‘em off.”

“I’m not going to walk around barefoot.”

“Didn’t say you had to.”

You didn’t get what he was saying, even less when he turned his back to you. Then, when he bent slightly at the knee, it made sense.

He couldn’t be serious right now.

“My house isn’t that far. I’ll carry you there.”

Okay. He was being serious. He was ready and willing to give you a piggyback ride.

You didn’t intend to laugh, but it was only because this situation was so ridiculous—and partly because of your own anxiety, fizzling at the thought alone.

Eren took it differently, shooting you a playfully offended look when he said, “What? You think I can’t carry you?” He straightened out, shoved his hands into his pockets, and began walking away. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

“Wait!”

You wanted to blame it on your feet or because you didn’t want to slow him down, but you had to be honest with yourself—aching feet or not, were you really going to pass on this opportunity?

Eren flashed a smile over his shoulder. “That’s what I thought.”

Ignoring his boasting, you ripped off your shoes. He took them from you in one hand, and then let you hop onto his back. His body didn’t give like you would expect, and his arms felt sturdy as they looped around your thighs.

You hadn’t had a piggyback ride since you were probably eleven years old, but you didn’t remember them feeling anything like this. Eren’s neck was warm against your arms, exceptionally so in the crisp night air. His hands were even hotter, having you convinced they’d sear themselves into the backs of your thighs.

He jostled you forward, higher onto his back. “Hold on tighter or else you’re gonna fall off.”

You hugged him, pressing your chest against his back. You’d never been this close to him before, close enough that his hair, only loosely tied back, brushed against your face. Faint notes of his cologne—warm like amber, but there was something you found refreshing about it—tickled your nose. You drew in closer, inhaling the scent, him.

Eren worried you might have felt the roll of his throat when your breath broke over the nape of his neck. How embarrassing that something as innocent as a piggyback ride could send his heart racing. As if suddenly, he was back in junior high, and it was his first time holding a girl’s hand all over again.

If this was all he’d have of you tonight, or ever, he’d be happy with just that. Even if it meant he’d wake up with a sore back. He wanted to earn your heart, even if he wasn’t so sure your crush had ever gone away.

The house was too dark for you to make out a thing. You stilled in the entryway, just behind Eren, and waited for him to walk ahead.

Not a second later, he flipped a light on from the kitchen. Your eyes adjusted after a few blinks, and he appeared again from around the corner. He wore a look of trepidation, staring at you like you were a lost puppy he’d taken in and didn’t know what to do with.

“Can I get you some water?”

“Sure,” you replied. “Thank you.”

He waved a hand toward the sofa, saying, “Make yourself at home,” before disappearing again.

You’d hardly made yourself comfortable by the time he returned. You didn’t even realize how rigid your arms were until you uncrossed them to reach for the water bottle Eren handed you.

He sat on the other side of the old couch and it squeaked beneath his weight.

“I imagine you wouldn’t want to sleep on the couch in a house full of guys,” he started, settling into the couch. “Take my room, if you want. I can sleep out here.”

You almost choked on your water, immediately shaking your head. “I’m not going to take your bed.” You couldn’t, possibly. You’d never even been in his room before. “You didn’t even need to go to the trouble of letting me stay the night.”

“Out of all my troubles,” Eren said with a certain warmth to his face, “you staying the night is the least of them.”

You smiled at him. You smiled at him, and you had no clue how it pulled at his heart. It was shy, no greater than a curl of the very corner of your mouth, yet he craved nothing more than to feel the shape of it under his lips and memorize the taste.

“Okay.” You finally gave in. You could have ended it there, and you probably should have, but you nervously rambled on, “But, really, if it’s too much—if you want me to go, I can call a—”

“I don’t want you to go.”

You stammered, opening and closing your mouth as you pretended you had any clue what you’d say next. Something changed; you didn’t know what. An energy shift, a new glint in his eyes—that look he was giving you.

Maybe it was more accurate to say that everything had changed.

There wasn’t much air to your voice when you said, “I don’t want to go either.”

Your admission was barely a whisper. So delicate that Eren wasn’t even sure you intended to say it aloud. Your eyes were big and genuine, like you had revealed some vulnerable part of you. He couldn’t look away, risking losing what little composure you hadn’t stolen from him yet.

You liked him like that—getting to witness such an unguarded look on a face that was always hardened. Soft and electric, all at once. You never thought he’d look at you in such a way, only in your dreams, and you didn’t want it to end.

Now or never.

“Eren?”

“Yeah?” His voice was just as taken as yours.

You knew yourself as anything but bold, but right then, you were. Purring your words when you asked him, “Why are you always so nice to me?”

The distant light from the kitchen cast shadows along the angles of his jaw, highlighting how it tensed.

“Am I?” Eren asked. His voice had gained a new rasp.

You nodded.

“How so?”

“You know,” you said slowly, knowingly, leaning into him. “You walk me home when I’m drunk. Carry me when my feet hurt.” You tucked your legs beneath you, sitting back on your calves, knees bumping up against his thigh. “You let me spend the night, even offer me your bed.”

Eren thought you might kiss him right then, but you only giggled. “Not to mention, you tutored me in anatomy for an entire semester without complaining once.”

You rested a daring hand on his leg. He looked from it to you before teasing, “I think I might’ve complained once.”

He moved with you, at your pace. He cupped your cheek, and you tried not to melt into him.

“But I can’t help myself.” His thumb traced over your skin. “You’re very cute when you’re drunk and when you’re proud of yourself for passing a quiz.” He unexpectedly grins. “And when you hold your book too close to your face when you read.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do.”

You didn’t press the subject any further because it didn’t matter; you were so close that the tips of your noses were nearly brushing against each other. With your face still in his hand, he swiped his thumb along your bottom lip. Unwittingly, you wetted them like you wanted a taste.

Neither of you wanted to be the first to crumble the wall, the one you spent a semester building together, so tall that there were times you couldn’t see over it.

You might have been feeling courageous, but you knew you’d regret it the next time you saw Eren on campus. You could see it now, the smug smile he’d give you from across the hall, or the far side of the green—wherever you’d inevitably bump into him again. He’d turn you into a puddle right on the spot.

That didn’t concern you. Not after you heard the needful groan he stifled from the very back of his throat, and you desperately wanted to hear it again.

Eren caressed your face. You tilted into him until your forehead pressed against his, and you could feel his breath on your lips.

“I still have a crush on you,” you whispered.

“Yeah, I know.” He wasn’t cocky about it, but soft. He sounded relieved.

Your hand left his thigh, traveling higher until you had it splayed against his chest. The muscles twitched beneath your touch. Eren couldn’t help but wonder if you knew what you were doing to him, how insane you’d driven him. You had to.

“So,” you said, long and drawn-out.

Your fingers toyed with the fabric of his shirt, the tips of them grazing and pinching like you wanted to yank him to you.

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Spoken like a true temptress, like a lioness playing with her food. You let your gaze linger intentionally long before locking onto his eyes.

Eren nearly gulped. “Fuck—c’mere.”

The hand he had on your face slipped higher. His fingers wrapped around the back of your head to pull you to him.

What you thought would be a crash of lips was much more affectionate. Instead of kissing you as if he believed he could make up for lost time, he kissed you softly, thoughtfully, like he knew he had all the time in the world with you now.

Your lips parted to invite his tongue in, hot and licking against your own. Your head spun, but not because of the alcohol. Attempting to ground yourself, you snatched a fistful of his shirt with a trembling hand. But the longer he made out with you, taking his time with seemingly no destination in mind, the more helpless you became.

“Eren.” It left you in a gasp, swallowed up before it had the chance to meet the air.

He angled your head slightly, exposing your neck for him to explore. He kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. Then you felt his lips at the hollow below your ear, gasping as his teeth skimmed lower.

“Hm?” he hummed, unbothered. Like he was oblivious to how turned on you were, how just his breath against your skin had your thighs clenching.

“That’s why you didn’t want me to leave, right?” Your voice warbled as you spoke, eyes fluttering shut as he began mouthing along your neck, sucking like he wanted to leave a bruise.

You palmed lower, over the front of his jeans. He was hard, straining against them, and you massaged over his length a few times. You waited and listened for his breath to falter before reaching for his zipper.

“Because you’ve thought about this before,” you murmured. With his jeans undone, you snuck your hand inside his boxer, wrapping your fingers around his cock. You nuzzled your face just below his jaw, peppering kisses, noting his quickening pulse as you began stroking him, base to tip. “Because you were hoping this would happen.”

“Yes,” Eren groaned. He would have tried to hold it back, but he was already staving off his urge to rut into your hand.

“I was, too,” you confessed.

That broke him. Before he knew it, he had you pinned between him and the couch.

Your back hit the cushion with another whine from the springs, louder and more obnoxious than before. When Eren kissed you this time, he didn’t want to take his time with you anymore. Not after hearing that you wanted him in the same ways he needed you.

The couch quickly became too cramped for your liking, with limbs slipping and spilling until you thought you might fall to the floor. Only when your kiss broke—because your head was dangling over the edge of the sofa—did you have a moment to catch your breath, or at least try to.

“You said,” you panted, collecting yourself. “You said I could sleep in your room.” Eren nodded, eyes hazy as he looked down at you. “Maybe you should show me to it now…”

He stalled, his brain short-circuiting for the obvious reason before he picked up on your heavy-handed implication.

“Yeah, okay.”

Eren helped you upright before you untangled yourselves from one another. You climbed the stairs in a hurry, tripping over your feet because you couldn’t imagine keeping your hands off each other. You followed just behind him, your hand in his, as he led you to his bedroom.

His hands were reckless as they pawed over your body, anywhere they could. Yet his touch maintained a certain firmness that had you weak in the knees, struggling to suppress your whimpers. Each tiny sound seemed to encourage him, riling him until he had you braced against the door, slamming it shut with your combined weight.

Eren caged you in place, with forearms planted on either side of your head. But you would have stayed there, willingly. Forever, if you could.

You almost hated yourself for how submissive you felt to him. He kissed you commandingly, yet gently enough that he could take you anywhere he pleased.

You hated yourself more for getting turned on at just the thought.

Taking his loose, unzipped jeans between your fingers, you tugged him close, hooking a leg around his waist. You felt his cock pressing between your legs, ground against it because if you didn’t, you thought you might explode; you were only human, after all.

Eren’s hands gripped your ass, helping you roll against him a few times before mumbling, “Bed?”

His voice was shallow, all breathless, like his lungs were running on empty. You liked this version of him—when he was needy for you.

“Bed,” you affirmed with a bob of your head.

That was all it took before Eren scooped you into his arms, whirling you around until he had you collapsed onto the bed.

You sprawled out with a stretch of your back. It felt so good to lie amongst the billowy comforter, off your feet. You nestled around, almost like you could have lulled off right then—almost.

Eren turned on his bedside lamp, and though the light was dim, you felt keenly aware of his gaze on you as you peeled off your shirt. It bunched as you snaked it over your head, its slinky fabric hugging your body, revealing your bra with a subtle bounce of your tits. Every part of it, of you, was so shamefully sexy, Eren couldn’t get enough.

His hands closed over yours when you reached for the button of your jeans as if to tell you, let me do it. You allowed it, watching as he opened the front of them. His fingers glided along your stomach until he reached your hips. From there, he pulled the fitted denim down your legs. You kicked them to the side once they’d reached your ankles.

The sight of you, ready and beneath him, had him overwhelmed, to say the least. He didn’t know where to look—he didn’t even know where to start.

His fingertips, though lightly calloused, felt exceedingly gentle as he trailed them over your bare skin. So softly that if you closed your eyes, you might not even know he was there. He started just beneath the underwire of your bra, then down the length of your stomach. At your hip, his touch tickled, and you squirmed so cutely beneath him.

Eren wanted to say something witty, but the sight of you stirring below him had him spacey, leaving him quiet. Even the chuckle he gave was practically inaudible, just a huff through his nose.

Despite the fog, Eren had a fleeting moment of lucidity. He blinked, hard, like it would clear his head. You struggled to read him, staring at you like you’d given him reason to be suspicious.

Then he asked, “How are you?”

You mirrored his suspicion, eyebrows knitting together. “I’m good. Um, how are you?”

His face scrunched like he was about to say, not good. It made you nervous.

You perched on your elbows, interested, waiting on him. He ran his fingers through his hair, the same way he always did when he was trying to concentrate.

“We’re a little past exchanging pleasantries, don’t you think?” you joked, mainly because you didn’t know what else you were supposed to say.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Eren brought his hand to his forehead like he could capture his thoughts before they slipped away. “Like, I mean—” Coherency was hard, especially with you laid out before him, head tilted with curiosity, staring up at him through pretty, heavy lashes. Had they always been that long?

Finally, he blurted out, “Are you still drunk?”

You were relieved to learn nothing was wrong. You thought over your answer, taking inventory of your body, every fiber of your being only wanting him.

“Not really,” you said with a slight shrug. “Those pancakes were a real lifesaver.”

He still looked hesitant. You took his hand, giving it a small squeeze before smiling at him. “I want this. Like really, really want this.”

Eren let out a short laugh that softened you up even more. With your assurance, his fingers began dancing along your skin again, pulling lightly at the band of your underwear. He played with it, his once-boyish expression turning more brazen as he asked, “Then is it okay for me to touch you here?”

His voice was gruff, the timbre of it still ringing between your ears. You couldn’t help the sound it pulled from you. A sweet little moan, so delicious that Eren felt his cock twitch before he could even remove your underwear.

“Yes,” you murmured, eyes fixed on him, on his fingers. They pushed beneath your panties despite your hope that he’d simply take them off.

That single, breathy word gave Eren the go-ahead. He crawled over you, holding himself up with his free hand. Propped on your elbows, your face was inches away from his. So close that with just the tilt of your head, you were kissing him again.

Eren’s fingers ventured lower, sweeping between you teasingly, but it was as if he was teasing himself.

"You’re so wet,” he groaned, still playing with you. He’d circle your clit until your jaw went slack, then remove the pressure just to trace your entrance. “All for me?”

“Mhm.” You exhaled indulgently when his fingers returned to your clit, rubbing languidly. When you lifted your hips for more, his circles became tighter, quicker, giving you exactly what you needed. You let go then, allowing your wobbly elbows to give out.

Eren chased after you, nipping down your neck until he found the spot he’d learned you liked best, especially when he sucked on it. He yanked a sharp whine from you, another as he continued leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat.

Eren, Eren, Eren. You were consumed by thoughts of him, only him. Consumed by how good he made you feel and every place you wanted him.

And when you cried out, “Ah—all for you,” you certainly weren’t thinking about how desperate you sounded for a guy who’d been nothing more than your lab partner until tonight.

That did it for him. In one impulsive motion, Eren stood up straight, hooked his fingers around the band of your panties, and tore them off with ease. Once they were out of his way, lost amongst your other garments, his hand was rightfully back between your legs.

He pumped his middle finger inside you first, curling it just right to have your back arching, your breath already hitching in your throat.

You thought he’d be arrogant about it, how he already had you, quite literally, bending to his will. But he’d already lost himself in you, every bit of you. Your tiny gasps, spilling from kiss-swollen lips. Your bra and the way its straps had limply started falling down your shoulder, exposing the supple skin of your chest. How pretty your cunt looked, taking his finger.

His pace ignited that familiar feeling within you, but as quickly as it started burning in your stomach, you’d lost it just as fast.

With a frustrated sob, you opened your eyes to see why he’d rudely edged you like that.

Eren yanked his shirt over his head and threw it aside. “I wanna go down on you.”

You felt his words hot at the back of your neck—either that or it was the sight of his deceivingly toned stomach. Whatever it was, you couldn’t decide before Eren started stripping from his jeans. And if you were still unsure why you’d clammed up, the tent in his boxers, large and threatening to undo you, was most certainly it.

You tried your best to look at his face when you asked, “Don’t you think we should be fast? All of your roommates are home.”

That was the last thing Eren wanted. He wanted to have you, all to himself, for as long as you’d allow. But that was easy for him to say now; his willpower had already started waning.

“They’re sleeping. Don’t worry about them.” Eren thumbed circles against your inner thigh encouragingly, making it difficult to say no to him. At least until he cracked his usual devilish smile. “I thought you said you were quiet.”

The daggers you shot him said enough. You had only started to quip something back when Eren shut you up. He leaned over you, encasing you in his warmth. You felt his lips, his tongue, at your neck, running along the silky skin.

He sucked at the lobe of your ear, and the airy giggle you gave traveled straight to his cock. He kissed your collarbone as he tugged down the cups of your bra. Though his breath was warm, it sent goosebumps scattering across your chest. His tongue flicked over one of your perked nipples, and you rewarded him with a moan—even louder once he took it into his mouth.

You were so, so sensitive. All for him, too. Eren craved to discover every nook on your body he could kiss and every sound you’d make in response. He wanted to learn every last part of you, especially the ones that would have you wrecked.

He continued kissing down your stomach, with him lowering to his knees on the ground. Taking your legs, one in each hand, he pulled them back to make room to settle between. He placed them over his shoulders, bringing you in until your bottom half hung off the side of the bed.

Eren palmed over your thighs. He left kisses there, too, his lips so close to where you wanted him the most.

“Let me taste you.” His voice was a quiet plead. He pressed a kiss against your inner thigh, then another, with his eyes fluttering shut like he wanted to savor you. “Please.”

You’d lost your voice somewhere in your throat. You could only nod in response—a bit too eagerly, perhaps. Eren gleamed up at you. He clearly wanted to smirk but was smart enough not to risk it this time.

You’d felt only his breath at first. It quelled the chill bedroom air. Next, it was the very tip of his tongue. Pointed, it ran through you, painfully slow but still enough for you to suck in a breath between your teeth.

“Spread your legs wider for me.” You did as you were told, completely at his mercy. It must have pleased him because you swore you felt him grin against you as he praised, “Good girl.”

You made an embarrassing sound at that. One you didn’t expect. Eren surely didn’t expect it either, but it excited him, knowing how you were weak to his words, to his voice. To him.

With you now fully on display for him, he couldn’t resist burying his face into you, even if he had fully intended to tease you longer. His tongue flicked your clit, sending pulses of electricity shooting up your spine.

You shifted your hips, raising them to meet his mouth. His tongue was steady, never slowing once as he leaned into a rhythm you liked, that had your fingers laced in his hair and undoing his bun. With just a little more, angling and guiding his tongue to just the right spot, it was like you suddenly saw sparks of white behind your eyelids.

“Eren—ah,” you panted frantically, “right there.”

He had the flat of his tongue against your clit, lapping in tandem with your rocking hips until your thighs began shaking.

“I got you,” he said, wrapping his arms around your legs and locking you into place. “Just relax for me.”

Eren continued having you feverishly, filling the bedroom with a mixture of your wispy cries and groans of his own. It was as if he was just as desperate for you to come as you felt, worshipping every squeak and squirm he could get from you.

“I-I’m—”

His eyes meet yours. You looked breathless, your mouth hanging open in a vain attempt at pulling in tattered breaths. When he let go of your thighs, they dropped to his shoulders.

Not breaking his pace, his thumb replaced his tongue so he could ask, “You need more?”

You swallowed hard and nodded.

“You want my fingers?” His thumb left your clit. You mourned the loss only for him to trace a finger down your entrance before dipping it inside you.

“Oh, fuck.” You writhed in response. “Yes.”

He used two fingers this time, collecting his spit and your slick before pushing them inside you. There was little resistance as he worked his fingers in and out of you. He returned to tonguing your clit, giving it a few kitten licks before picking up right where he left off.

You were getting close, so close, and if time could allow for it, you would have stayed like that forever, just shy of becoming entirely undone.

There were many times, admittedly, when you imagined Eren having his way with you, wondering what it’d feel like for him to finger and fuck you. But never did you think he’d beg to have you like this, nor did you imagine the sight to absolutely ruin you.

Eren’s face flushed a blossomy pink, spanning across his cheeks. You were so wet; he was so wet. Soaked, actually, in your arousal—a mess you might have cared more about if you weren’t about to come.

His green eyes, darkened like you’d never seen before, found yours, and he moaned. He felt pathetic for it, but what had him feeling even more pathetic was how he couldn’t stop himself from shoving his boxers down his thighs. He took hold of himself, seeking any semblance of relief because you were possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen. But he knew you’d look even better coming on his tongue.

You whimpered when you saw him fisting his cock, nice and fast. He was so hard for you, and you weren’t shy about staring. You couldn’t even fake it, too curious to see exactly how he liked it, watching him fuck his fist with quick breaks to give extra attention to his sensitive tip. You thought about how he’d fuck you, how he’d like it then, and it sent you over the edge.

Your cries came out choppy and strained until your voice cut out entirely. You sobbed silently, carelessly, rolling your hips over Eren’s tongue and using him. You wanted to drag out the feeling for as long as you could. By the end, you were quivering, exhausted, and could no longer keep your eyes open.

Eren had to stop pumping himself, or else he would have come from that alone. He sat back onto his calves, one of his hands palming over your thigh while the other soothed your clit, just to ease you back down. You looked like you needed it, all wrecked, legs limply spread for him, just like he hoped.

God, he annoyed himself for pretending he never wanted you because you—you were a dream.

The only thing that could wake him from such a dream was your voice.

“Eren?”

He loved it when you said his name.

You sat up to look at him properly, but it felt like there were a ton of bricks on your chest. Eren appeared quite the opposite, entirely unfazed. He had his cheek smushed against your thigh, staring unabashedly at the finger he lazily pushed back inside you. You jolted at the intrusion, still sensitive; he could tell by the way your muscles spasmed around his finger.

The feeling mesmerized him: you sucking him in for more. He didn’t even look at you when he replied, “Hm?”

You would’ve thought knowing his eyes were on you would embarrass you, but you were still so touchy from your orgasm that the winding feeling had already returned. It coiled in your stomach, begging to be snapped again.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Eren loved hearing that even more.

He finally looked at you then, and you imagined that if he were a dog, his ears would have perked up like you said the magic words.

“What was that?” he asked, more playfully than you expected. You didn’t like it, not with the grin he wore to match. “I couldn’t hear you. You were mumbling.”

“You heard me the first time.”

He ran his finger teasingly up the crease of your thigh. “Say it again.”

It tickled. You fussed, “Eren, come on—”

“No, I don’t think that was it. I think you said something else.”

“Just—” You sighed dramatically before giving in. “I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me, Eren.”

He beamed at you, proud of both you and himself. He grabbed his boxers, still sitting mid-thigh, and removed them entirely.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Eren stood up and didn’t give you the chance to respond before flipping you onto your stomach. You felt his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. His fingers skated lower, down to your bra before undoing its clasp. When you pushed yourself to your forearms, you felt your bra fall, its straps hanging loosely around your arms.

“You look so pretty like this,” he told you as he grabbed your hips, raising you to your knees. He stroked himself a few more times with one hand and smacked your ass with the other.

“Eren!” you yelped. “Roommates!”

“I thought I told you not to worry about them,” he said, punctuated with another smack.

The print of his hand still stung when you heard rustling behind you. You peered over your shoulder to see him tearing open a condom. He rolled it over his cock, and all the while, his eyes kept you—naked and with your ass in the air for him—pinned to the bed.

He flattened a hand against your lower back, putting an arch in it. With the other, he spread you, aligning the tip of his cock with your entrance.

Eren guided himself in more slowly than he wanted to, listening to you whine as you adjusted to his length. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was easy enough for him to push inside, having already prepped you with his fingers, leaving you aching for him to fill you with more.

When his pelvis was flush against you, he felt your walls flutter around him, squeezing his cock so perfectly he thought you must be made for him. A groan bubbled in his throat, low enough that it was nearly a growl. The sound made your heart skip, right between your lungs, so you clenched again to encourage another.

“You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that,” Eren hissed.

“Doing what?” you asked innocently. Then you did it again.

Despite the warning, he didn’t protest it. Instead, he started moving, thrusting into you leisurely. He was self-indulgent about it too, spreading you with his hands so he could admire how well your cunt looked with his cock in it.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he muttered, quiet enough that it was as if he were talking to himself. “So fucking good.”

“Eren.” The whine in your voice drove him crazy.

His hands, large and demanding, curved over your hips. The blunt end of his nails dug into the fat of them as he pulled you back to meet every snap of his hips. The indecent smacking of skin-on-skin bounced off the bedroom walls. You didn’t complain this time, only let your head drop between your shoulders. Your eyes screwed shut as you became lost in the throes of pleasure all over again.

“Eren,” you cried again.

He didn’t stop fucking you to ask, “What is it?”

He folded over you, his hand snaking up to your neck and taking hold of your chin. He turned your face to look at him, so he could see what you wanted. You couldn’t form anything other than wimpy chants of ah, ah, ah, sounding mangled as he squished your cheeks.

“Tell me how you want it.”

His words alone made you bite back a moan.

Finally, you managed to say, “Harder.”

Eren smiled, all slack-jawed and toothy. You would have found it irresistible, yet totally ill-fitting if you could have seen it. But how else was he to react?

He placed a kiss on the back of your neck, then another on your shoulder. It was unexpectedly doting, until you felt his fingers curve around your throat. Though you knew what was coming, you still squealed when he hoisted you upright, with your back sealed against his chest.

Eren held you there, fucking up into you, harder, like you asked him. Your flimsy bra flopped around your arms with each of his thrusts. He groped at your breast, taking your nipple between his fingers, rolling and pinching at it until you were mewling.

He continued taking you as if you’d always been his, and you let him have you. You let him use you like you only existed for his pleasure, with your head feeling heavy as it lolled back against him.

But you were so much more than that, and Eren was determined to make you come again. He wanted to feel it.

“Touch yourself,” Eren breathed, right into your ear. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. “I want to hear you when you come this time.”

Your hand slithered between your legs. The very tips of your fingers bumped into Eren’s cock as you got yourself off. Legs wavering at the added pressure, you were practically vibrating when you came, your heart pounding in your ears. There was no doubt he heard you this time around.

It was difficult to remain upright. You fell from Eren’s hold, landing on the bed forcefully with him toppling right over you. You were still riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm as he fucked you into the mattress, and it had your thighs squeezing together so nicely for him.

“I’m—ah, fuck—I’m close,” Eren grunted.

It surprised you when he pulled out, but it didn’t take long before you realized he was rolling you onto your back. Eren manhandled you like you were weightless; he had your arms tossed above your head, pinned in place with a single hand around your wrist. He pushed back inside you, hard and fast, with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

“I need to see you.”

Your stomach flipped at his words like they were poetry. Fuck. He had you so irrevocably wrapped around his finger. And maybe you were merely lovelorn and looking for something that wasn’t there, but you swore he looked as though he were just as ensnared as you.

Your mouth sought out his in a sloppy kiss. It was suckling lips and colliding teeth, smothered grunts and groans as you ground against one another, but you didn’t care; you enjoyed every messy, frantic minute of it.

You wanted to touch him, wriggling until he released his hold on your wrists. You took his face between your hands. His eyes were moony and heavy-lidded and had you swooning.

“Fuck, Eren—I want you to come,” you gasped.

Easy enough.

He came hard. As perverted as it sounded, you wished you had a camera. You wanted to remember how his eyes snapped shut, to record every sound. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering against you as if he could reach any deeper.

His breath was hot against your already sweltering skin. It was hard to breathe, especially under his weight, but you wanted to hold him for a little longer.

Neither of you spoke for a while. You didn’t realize you’d been grazing your fingers up and down the back of his neck until he lifted himself off you. He let his gaze linger on your face, like he wanted one last look, then nudged his nose against yours before getting up.

You laid still, only watching while Eren straightened out and disposed of the condom. Your legs felt too soft and lazy to move, so you only let your eyes follow him as he stepped into a pair of sweatpants.

"The invitation to stay the night still stands, right?” you lightly sassed.

“No, I was actually going to call you an Uber home.” Eren rolled his eyes. “Of course it does. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

You giggled as you pushed yourself up. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hallway, last door on the right.” He took one look at you, then started digging around in his dresser. He tossed something at you, aiming it at your head by the looks of it. You snatched it just in time. It was one of his T-shirts. “You can wear that.”

You held it by the sleeves, inspecting it. “Is that weird?”

“It wasn’t until you asked that.”

You pulled the tee over your head before adjusting it. Your underwear came next, but you felt more hesitant about the jeans.

Eren noticed, assuring you, “They’re sleeping, I promise,” as he put on a shirt of his own. “Just be quick.”

“Okay.” You left, but poked your head back in to say, “I’m leaving the door cracked so I know which room is yours.”

He laughed. “All right.”

You followed his instructions, even trying to be quick about it, too. You peed, washed your hands, and only stared at your bruising collarbone for ten seconds before rushing back down the hall.

Eren was in bed when he saw the door swing open. “Look at you, Ms. C-plus, not getting lost.”

You pulled a face. “Whatever, Brian.”

Right on cue, he complained, “It was one time.” You mouthed it along with him.

For whatever reason, you didn’t crawl into bed with him right away. You felt a bit like a deer in headlights, blinking at Eren as you waited for something. You didn’t know what. He looked sleepy, with his hair still unkempt from your fingers. Seeing him like this, with you dressed in his shirt, about to curl up under his sheets—were you supposed to go along with this like it was normal?

When you finally thought of something to say, Eren cut in first. “You can’t seriously try to take the couch after that.”

That was exactly what you were about to do. He chuckled, knowing he was right by the purse of your lips. He lifted the blanket for you—once again, like this was entirely normal for you—and said, “Get over here already. I’m cold.”

Eren was extremely difficult to say no to, but you knew that already. You got into his bed with no contest and let him lay the comforter over you.

Either his pillows were just that soft or you felt that exhausted because your eyes went heavy almost immediately. Eren reached over you to turn out the light, but let his arm fall on top of you. He hugged your waist, not hesitating to pull you into him.

He nuzzled into the back of your neck, pulling a giggle from you. “Are you always this clingy after sex?”

Eren hummed an affirmative sound, tickling you again.He was most definitely never this clingy after sex. But there was no way he could keep his hands to himself, not with how good you looked in his shirt, just barely long enough to cover anything. Maybe his intentions in lending you a shirt weren’t entirely pure—so sue him. You wearing his clothes was a sight he could get used to. One he had a feeling he’d get to see much more often.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren fluff #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader

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highvern · 5 months

Text

Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre: romance, smut, angst, exes to lovers, Christmas!AU, fake dating

Warnings: she/her pronouns, Drug use, alcohol, mentions of aging family members, unhealthy family dynamics, mentions of illness (reader is a doctor), cursing, dry-humping/grinding, kissing, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, unprotected sex, angst, poor self-esteem/self-doubt, pining, some threats of bodily harm

Length: ~24k

Note: God this was such a doozy. I started it on December 1st and barely finished it this morning. Based on Happy Place by Emily Henry (if you like romcoms I highly recommend all her books) and most cheesy Christmas movies (Exmas). Did I project my middle child syndrome onto fellow middle child Wooyoung? Maybe! BUT why write if not to explore your own trauma lmao

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy or don’t! Merry Christmas! MWAH!

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

June 27th

“So I have some news. I know it hasn’t been easy for us going back—”

“I think we should break up.”

“and forth so much but—What?”

“I don’t think it's working out between us.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say before your vocal cords seize.

Your mouth falls open, lips attempting to form words that don’t manage to make a sound. Eyes shifting around the room, the sheen of tears thickening as a few beads trail down your cheeks as you stand shakily; managing only a few steps away from the table before a choked sob wiggles free from an iron grip. People are staring as you nearly run out to the door, unaware that several whip around to look at the man left sitting behind you.

Wooyoung doesn’t chase you down. Doesn’t call or text as you walk the twenty blocks to Lisa’s apartment in the thick humidity of the city night; snot and tears trailing down your face.

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything at all as eight years shatter to pieces in a matter of seconds.

December 7th

Wooyoung

…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight.

Wooyoung staples the finished packets together, ears tickled by jazzy Christmas music leaking from his computer speakers in the corner of his L-shaped desk. Surrounded by colorful brick walls of a midtown elementary school isn’t where most people his age would find themselves on a Friday evening but where else would he go?

His roommates have their partners over, he’d rather avoid the frigid dampness of the park he usually smokes at, and Wooyoung isn’t interested in the crowds clogging anywhere else he’d think to visit. The usual comforting bustle of the city only serves to set him on edge, making him desperate for a true solitude he really craves. Getting ahead on his classroom prep for the remainder of the semester seemed like the perfect, albeit a depressing way, to spend the evening.

The dulcet tones of Dean Martin are joined by an incoming call buzzing his phone across the wooden top of the desk. A familiar picture of his mom and him as a baby flashing across the screen before he answers.

“Hi sweetie,” his mom yells on the other line. Wooyoung can tell she’s driving home from work based on the poor audio quality.

“Hey mom,” he wedges the device between his shoulder and cheek, using his hands to continue organizing the worksheets for Monday; paper warm in his palms from the printer.

“I’m just calling to make sure you and Y/N are still coming for Christmas. I know the hospital is usually crazy this time of year so I thought I’d double check.”

“Actually mom—”

“Bibi keeps talking about wanting everyone home for Christmas but if Y/N can’t make it she’ll understand. She’s always been her favorite.” His mom laughs.

Wooyoung’s grandmother is impolitely frank about her age and never hesitates to use it to her own advantage. How does he tell her that his girlfriend, who she liked more than her own grandsons some days, is no longer his girlfriend? And how he is the only one to be blamed for that.

He might as well start digging his own grave.

“We’ll be there.” Wooyoung blabs before he can stop himself.

“Wonderful! I’m pulling into the driveway so I’ll talk to you later. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Fortunately, on a cold winter night like tonight, the only other soul in the building is Mr. Rollins, a janitor with headphones permanently attached to his ears. The colorful combination of expletives pouring from Wooyoung’s mouth would make a sailor blush.

Typing in a familiar name to his message bar, Wooyoung realizes he hasn’t changed it in all this time; the string of emojis from the first night he got her number glaring back at him in mockery. A sting of bile blisters the back of Wooyoung’s throat as he steads himself for what he’s about to do. Who he is about to ask for the biggest mercy; one he didn’t deserve in the slightest.

Wooyoung: Can I call you?

Wooyoung inhales before hitting “send,” locking his phone and tossing it down like it’s possessed.

Barely a full minute passes before it vibrates with her response.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: are you okay?

He can’t even type a reply before the buzz buzz buzz on an incoming call tickles against his palm.

Tapping into the false chipper personality he reserves for strangers and his class, Wooyoung answers with a simple. “Hey!”

“Hi.” She deadpans.

“Is it a bad time?”

“What do you want, Woo?”

“How have you been?”

“I’m fine. But you aren’t calling to ask me that.”

Wooyoung wants to object but she’s right. “I’m not but I still care.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so my mom called and asked if you were coming over for Christmas.”

“Why?” Y/N asks after a pregnant pause.

“Because I haven’t told them we broke up.”

A rush of clattering sounds from her end along with a few curse words sounding far away before she continues. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s been six months!”

“I know! But I’ve been busy and there was never a good time and it’s just kinda snowballed.”

“Well, tell her now.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Bibi keeps talking about how she wants everyone how for one last Christmas and with Kyungmin going to colle—”

“Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you are.”

“You know I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

“I thought us breaking up meant I didn’t have to deal with your shit anymore.”

“I can tell them your busy and the hospital is keeping you or—”

“No,” Wooyoung can picture the hand scrubbing down her face, fingers massaging her temples the same way she always did when his shenanigans got them in trouble. “I’ll do it.”

Now he’s the one to pause, “Really?”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to see them all one last time.”

“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I actually need to get back to doing that so–”

“Yeah, I’ll, ugh, talk to you later. Bye.”

“Bye.”

As the line clicks and Wooyoung is left alone in his classroom, the space abruptly feels too big. With each minute ticking by, he convinces himself he hallucinated the entire exchange because there is no possible way his ex-girlfriend agreed to this ill-thought plan. Everything feels too normal for her to extend such undue kindness his way, especially after how he ruined their relationship in a moment of insecurity.

Wooyoung: My flight out is 12/21

Wooyoung: You don’t have to come that early

Y/N🥰🍯💖: im off starting the 19th

Wooyoung: I’ll pay for your flight

Y/N🥰🍯💖: great

Y/N🥰🍯💖: ill venmo you

Wooyoung: Cool, send me the details

There’s a weight on Wooyoung’s tongue at the new dynamic settling between them. Eight years of dating but now she’s a stranger. The last text messages arranging for their mutual friend Lisa to pick up a box of her stuff from his apartment.

Six months and he didn’t know if she kept her hair the same way or what new book she was obsessing over in her sparse free time; if her neighbor in Boston’s yappy geriatric dog finally kicked the bucket.

Lovers. Almost fiancées. And now strangers.

December 10th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes up to the early morning bustle of the busy streets just outside his window. His phone clock reads thirty minutes past his normal alarm which means he’s late. And that means his boss is going to tear his ass a new one.

In a whirl, Wooyoung rushes to the bathroom. He wets his hands with the freezing tap water, patting his face and attempting to style his bed ridden hair. The door shifts to catch his foot as he exits, stubbing his toe and forcing him to hop down the hallway to his room. Wrinkled khakis and a sweater are all Wooyoung manages before he throws on his parka and is out the door.

He sprints to the subway, just in time to see the doors closing on his train.

“Fuck me!”

“Too young for me buddy,” croaks the homeless man splayed on the bench in the middle of the platform.

Ignoring him, Wooyoug paces further down the station, anger filling him with restless energy. Glancing at his phone, he shoots an email to his principal that he’ll be late due to “train delays.” Thank god for the MTA being a regular piece of shit.

Finally checking the stream of missed notifications during the night, he uses the lull to answer them.

Mom: Does y/n still like those chips we bought last time? I’m at the store getting a few things

Wooyoung: She said she’s happy with whatever you get!

Not a lie since Y/N would be happy to have snacks of any kind.

SANNIE⛰️: YOU DIDN’T TELL YOUR PARENTS?

SANNIE⛰️: U R SO FUCKED

At least he can always count on San to state the obvious.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: here’s my ticket

Wooyoung does a double take when he sees she’s flying out of New York, not Boston. Why isn’t she flying out of Boston? There’s no way it’s cheaper than flying out of Boston and she wouldn’t go through the trouble of getting down here unless she had a good reason.

Wooyoung: Why are you flying out of LGA?

Y/N🥰🍯💖: Because I live here?

A lump of lead hardens in his stomach. She lives here, in New York. She’s been in the city and he didn’t even notice. Questions race forward. How long has she been here? Where is she working? What neighborhood is she in? Why didn’t he know she moved back?

The last question is more his own fault than he cares to admit.

His train arrives without preamble, brakes screeching as it slows to a stop. Wooyoung crowds into the compartment, happy for it to be relatively empty. Finding a spot on the wall, he zones out of the chaos for the next twenty minutes. A group of highschoolers laugh obnoxiously in the corner, snatching one another’s phones as they share god knows what between them. A young mom tries to placate her crying baby, the older man next to her rolling his eyes as he devours his morning paper. When the doors open at his stop, Wooyoung pauses for a second as an elderly woman enters the train. Catching her eye, he offers her his seat; only standing when she’s close enough so no one else tries to take it from her.

Wooyoung slithers out of the closing doors and bolts out of the station as fast as he can.

Panting and sweating under his black parka, Wooyoung arrives outside the red doors of the elementary school he teaches at. Principal Martinez is tapping his foot at the top of the steps, arms crossed in front of his chest, scowl etched deep on his face.

“This is the third time this month.”

“I know, I’m sorry! But the train got delayed with repairs or something and—”

“Save it. You have a class to get to.”

Breezing past, Wooyoung’s boots clack against the linoleum tile as he careens towards his classroom. The rowdy cacophony of third grade voices echo beyond the doorway, only increasing in volume as he peeks his head in.

A dozen shrill voices scream something along the lines of, “Mr. Jung you’re late!”

“You’re all just early!” Wooyoung goads back, sending a thankful look at the teacher who stepped in to watch them till he arrived.

The room descends into giggles, students finding their places as he settles at his own desk.

“So today, we’re starting with circle time!”

Y/N

“Let me get this straight: your ex asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend and now you’re spending Christmas with his family?”

Sparing a glance from the manilla folder containing notes on your next patient, you see Hongjoong watching you skeptically. The ridiculousness of the situation isn’t lost on you. You’d nearly convinced yourself the entire exchange Friday night was some cruel dream if not for the string of text messages proving it’d been real. Wooyoung’s first real attempt to speak with you post-breakup, and he asks you to pretend he didn’t break your heart six months ago.

“That’s about as straight as it gets.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow, “And you said yes, why?”

“Because…”

You missed him? Because you still loved him? Because when you saw his message you thought he was finally ready to admit it'd all been a mistake?

Because Wooyoung always convinced you to go along with whatever he asked?

“I really like his family.”

“Oh, sweet child.” He clicks, leafing through his own case file.

“Look, it’ll be nice to see them one last time and I’d rather spend the holidays with them than cramped in my apartment to avoid the tourists.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason why?”

“Yep.”

“This can’t go wrong at all!”

“Shut up,” you say before dipping into the exam room, shifting your face into an enthusiastic smile. “How are we today, Mrs. Haspin?”

“We’re doing okay. Harper hasn’t been liking the new medicine you prescribed.”

“She hasn’t?” You gasp sarcastically, staring wide eyed at the tiny brunette with braided pigtails sitting on the exam room bed.

“They’re gross!” Harper cries with all the sincerity a four year old can muster, her tiny hands wrinkling the paper as she slaps the bed indignantly.

“Well that’s no good. I’ll make sure to check if they have other flavors.” You type a few notes in her electronic chart as you turn over your shoulder. “Mom, have you noticed a difference?”

“She’s not having as many coughing fits.”

“That is very good.” You curl your stethoscope in your palm, attempting to warm the cool metal. “Can I listen to your lungs, Harper?”

She shakes her head up and down vigorously, the pink and gold beads at the end of her pigtails clacking together.

“Alright, take a deep breath in.” The woosh of air entering her lungs fills the room. “And out. In. And out.”

You prompt her to continue several times, gliding the chestpiece along various parts of her back as you listen intently. A few crackles pop in your ears, mucus coating her airways; only made worse by the dry winter of the city.

“Very good, Harper.” you praise before turning to her mom waiting anxiously in the corner. “With the winter make sure you’re using the humidifier as much as possible but her lungs sound better than last time so I’d like to stay on the meds.” You swivel back to your patient. “I’ll check with the pharmacy if they can do something about the flavor. Okay?”

Harper beams, glad to be heard. Her mother beams for an entirely different reason. Her daughter struggled with respiratory issues since she’d been born and as she aged they’d only gotten worse. Harper was the first patient you took when you started two months ago and in that time you’ve grown fond of her.

“All right, I’ll walk you all to the front. I think we can push out our next visit until six weeks since she’s been doing so well. If anything comes up, please don’t hesitate to call us.”

Handing them off to the receptionist to schedule their next appointment, you return to your office for a quick lunch.

Y/N: Because I live here

Youngie 🖤: since when?

How do you tell him that you’ve lived here since the day he broke up with you? How that night at dinner you were planning to surprise him by moving back to New York and removing the distance that plagued your relationship for three years?

The benefit of no longer being in a relationship means you don’t have to explain anything.

Locking your phone, you scarf down the squashed sandwich you brought from home before rushing to your next patient.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung: since when?

Wooyoung checked his phone after finishing pick up duty, one of several over the next month as a bargain to keep his job.

She’d ignored him. It wasn’t the first time his messages went hours before being answered. She was a doctor, and before that a med student, and before that pre-med when they’d met at some dive and realized they shared a behavioral psych class. Y/N always maintained a full schedule, only responding to the outside world when the night bled into the early hours of the day.

Wooyoung: Did you know Y/N moved here?

Yeosang: Yes.

Well fuck.

Wooyoung: You didn’t think to tell me?

Yeosang: You broke up.

Yeosang: ?

Even his roommate knew she’d been in the city.

Double fuck.

December 14th

Y/N

Another week passes before Wooyoung reaches out to you again. You’re set to leave in a few days but work requires all the energy you can manage thanks to a volatile respiratory season.

Youngie 🖤: Our flights are around the same time. Do you wanna carpool?

You spoke with Yeosang frequently enough (once in a blue moon) to know they still lived in the dingy old walk up they could hardly afford. The high rise you rented further up Manhattan would be on his way to the airport but did you want to see Wooyoung sooner than needed?

Misery still festered in your veins since the break up. Eight years you’d dated; through senior year of undergrad, four years of medical school, and just shy of three years of residency. And the asshole couldn’t give you a single reason for your break up. No warning. No fighting. The same bouquet of delicate pink tulips waiting in hand for you as you arrived at the train station for your last visit to the city before relocating permanently. Yeosang texted you that very afternoon about his excitement to have you back as if nothing was wrong.

A beautiful afternoon holed up in his room for a late nap before dinner, apartment silent in the absence of his three roommates who’d usually greet you enthusiastically as you returned to the city for a visit. Wooyoung hadn’t acted any differently than the other times you visited, seemingly unaware of the surprise you planned to unveil at the fancy dinner he planned to congratulate you on finishing your long years of training.

But then he sat down and said the six words that replayed in your mind like a curse.

And that was the last time you heard his voice until Friday night; as if Wooyoung dove off the face of the earth. The only proof of living were the traces of him in his friends’ Instagram stories or faceless photos of him in their posts.

You’d never been one to post much on social media anyway but his shock at your move back to the city fanned a sick sense of satisfaction. As if to say “two can play at that game.” Wooyoung cut you out and you’d done the same. Keeping your move under lock and key despite sharing the same friend group.

Y/N: no thanks

You’re toeing the line of rudeness but what’s Wooyoung going to do? Break up with you again?

December 21st

Wooyoung

Terminal C of LaGuardia Airport four days before Christmas ranks among the top destinations no one in their right mind would want to be. Parents attempting to keep track of hyper children, businessmen scowling down their nose as they scream into their cellphones, adults slamming down overpriced drinks in preparation for the endless questions holidays bring.

“Bringing home anyone special?”

“When are you going to get married?”

“Grandchildren?”

The last is Wooyoung’s grandmother’s new favorite. Myungho faces the brunt of it; married three years and in no rush to add another mouth to feed just yet. When Wooyoung flew home for Bibi’s birthday in April, she decided to turn her inquiry towards him and Y/N.

How fun it’ll be to answer those questions again with his temporarily not ex-girlfriend.

Security is long and laborious. One agent yells at him for keeping his shoes on, another rolls her eyes when he asks if his laptop needs to come out of his backpack. In front of him, a frail looking elderly woman struggles with placing the hard plastic bin on the rolling conveyor belt. Behind, grumbles of discontent regarding her holding up the line rise in volume as Wooyoung helps her with her things; sending a smile to her thank you.

And because no good deed goes unpunished, Wooyoung gets pulled for an extra search once he passes the large metal detector.

A burly pale skinned man with blue nitrile gloves sorts through his belongings with the gentleness of a bull in a china shop. Wooyoung’s wrecked and dusty backpack passes inspection easily enough but the contents of his carry-on end up spread across the shiny metal table for further examination under the sterile lights. Gifts for his family, some books he’s teaching next semester, and a navy velvet box he hasn’t left the city without in the past year.

That is apparently the source of interest for TSA as the man pops open the lid to scan the marquis cut diamond ring before putting it back in its place.

“Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” Wooyoung gives a tight smile.

Nodding his head to his colleague, the TSA agent steps away and allows Wooyoung to pack his bags.

He really needs a drink.

Y/N

“I’m sorry ma’am, the flight is overbooked. But there is room on the next flight to Denver!”

“No charge?”

“Not unless you would like to upgrade to business class.”

You have the money and Wooyoung paid for your seat so it’s technically cheaper than it’d usually be. However, Wooyoung would take it personally if he found out you sat in business when he paid for a last minute economy flight on a teachers salary. A few hours of comfort aren’t worth adding to the awkwardness you’ll face over the next week.

“No, thank you. But if there’s an aisle seat available that’d be great.”

She taps on her keyboard with manicured nails for a moment, the light of the screen reflecting on her face, before speaking with a perfect customer service smile. “Alright, your new flight number is AYX287 and you’ll be flying out of Gate 98.”

“Thank you.” You say, reviewing the boarding pass she printed. Your new gate is on the opposite side of the terminal but you have a little over an hour to make it there.

Rolling your silver carry-on next to you, you weave in and out of the other airport goers heading in the opposite directions. A curse of any crowded space, people forget to walk with a sense of purpose. You dodge a young couple, probably teenagers, standing in the middle of the walkway oblivious to anyone else; only to end up behind an gaggle of older women surrounded by a heavy cloud of perfume and cheap wine. One of their shirts reads “Happily Divorced!” in glittery cursive.

More nimble footwork and multiple sign checks later, you reach the correct wing of the terminal with forty five minutes to spare. Confirming that your gate does in fact exist, you turn back up the walkway to find a drink. Preferably several.

The first time you see Wooyoung in months will require the strongest alcohol you can finally afford now that residency is over and you're making the hefty salary you’d been promised at the start of medical school.

A friendly faced woman, old enough to be your mother, greets you as you take a stool at her bar.

“Cranberry margarita.”

“Wanna start a tab?”

“Yes, please.” You answer, handing over your credit card.

The first overpriced drink goes down smoothly, a little sweet and perfectly tart. The second and third much the same. Pleasantly buzzed with fifteen minutes till boarding, you cash out and shuffle back to wait by the gate.

And in one of the cramped pleather seats of the waiting area, sits your ex-boyfriend.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is hallucinating. Two gin and gingers and a THC gummy churning in his stomach make the mirage in front of him look incredibly realistic.

In her usual flying outfit, Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend stands twenty feet away every bit as beautiful as the last time he saw her. Loose gray sweats, the same old hunter green crew neck with the name of his hometown in frayed golden embroidery on the front, sherpa lined short ugg boots, and glasses perched on the end of her nose. The silver carry-on she bought in the airport last time they visited his family at her side.

And a sour look of absolute disgust twisting her lips.

Better he sees her for the first time since their break up now instead of later in front of the audience of his nosy family. In the safety of anonymity, she can kill him multiple times over with her eyes, and Wooyoung can grovel and pander like he usually does.

Or Wooyoung would if she hadn’t taken a seat along the bay of windows at the opposite end of the alcove.

Wonderful.

Y/N actively avoids looking in his general direction for the next fifteen minutes. An impressive feat given he’s directly in front of the help desk and TV screen displaying updates for their flight. But she digs her nose into her phone, tapping furiously to who Wooyoung assumes is her best friend. If he wakes up to Lisa in his apartment one morning with a knife to his throat, there’ll at least be a paper trail of evidence.

The gate agent booms over the loudspeaker, announcing priority boarding and first class to come forward. Wooyoung’s bank account weeps at the idea of flying first class during Christmas. Who flies first class domestic? A true mystery for the ages.

The familiar head of hair, full of murderous thoughts aimed at him, boards with group three. Flashing a polite smile to the gate agent as she struts down the hall without a glance back.

When Wooyoung is called with the last group, he’s first in line. The airport is a dog eat dog world and his good deeds end where the boarding line begins.

Nearly every seat is filled when Wooyoung shuffles down the cramped aisle, full overhead bins already closed half way down the plane. He doesn’t spot Y/N amongst the faces of passengers preparing for the next five hours, some already knocked out with eye masks and neck pillows.

Seat 27A, a window seat Wooyoung paid an extra $37 for, sits next to a blissfully vacant middle seat. There’s also just enough room for his black suitcase to fit overhead, snug between a gray hard case, and a blue duffle.

The aisle seat in the row is occupied by a man who looks a little younger than Wooyoung's age, a college hoodie and baseball cap similar to his own. He rises, allowing Wooyoung to shuffle by and plop into his chair. Stuffing his backpack under the seat in front, Wooyoung shoots a few last minute texts. One to his family group chat, letting them know the flight is about to take off; resending the flight number for his dad to anxiously track. Another to his roommate group chat, reminding them to cover the drains before they leave town. And a final one to San, begging for thoughts and prayers.

He barely hits send when the seat next to him jostles with the weight of a body. Turning, Wooyoung spots the man in the aisle seat a few inches from himself. On the other side, his ex-girlfriend.

Great.

Y/N

Wooyoung’s familiar mop of dark hair remains unseen through each new rush of passengers, the plane slowly filling up more and more. You dread to think he got stuck the same way you did hours ago, forced on a later flight than intended. If that was the case, would you be stuck at the airport waiting for him? Given his parents had to drive two hours to pick you both up, the answer is probably yes. And two hours unsupervised with Wooyoung’s mom would ruin the entire plan.

Nature calls you to the cramped bathroom at the back of the aircraft as passengers at the front continue trickling in. Hopefully Wooyoung is sitting far away from you when you return to your seat.

Stupid motherfucker. You think, rattling the jammed door of the airplane stall in an attempt to force it open. Just as you're about to kick the door down, a flight attendant shoves it aside, flashing a tight smile of displeasure.

Shuffling up back to your seat, you awkwardly wait behind struggling passengers putting away their belongings in the sparse overhead space. Thank the powers that be, your new ticket came with better boarding.

Finally catching up to the familiar faces of the rows around your seat, you turn to find two men in your row. One in your seat, and the other your ex boyfriend.

You stop dead in your tracks, with a loud, “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Sorry!” The man who is not your ex-boyfriend apologizes.

“No! Not you, sorry!”

Wooyoung just stares blankly. If habit and history were to repeat itself, Wooyoung carefully timed an edible before stepping through security. Given his propensity for being obnoxiously early to the airport, he should be high as a kite.

And now you’re stuck next to him drunk as a skunk.

Great.

Taking the now vacant aisle seat, you attempt to ignore Wooyoung once again; plugging in your headphones and pulling out a book you’ve been trying to get through for months. Lisa’s recommendation of smutty fantasy romance with hot immortal faeries. You didn’t see the appeal but at her insistence, you gave it a chance.

“Hey,” calls a voice to your left.

Nope, not doing this. You think, forcing yourself to read the opening paragraph again but registering none of the words..

“Y/N,” he tries again.

In your periphery, you can see Wooyoung folding over at the waist to look around the man sandwiched between you.

“What?” You snap, ripping out your headphones.

“How’ve you been?”

Rolling your eyes with a groan, you sink back into your chair, headphones replaced and book in the pocket in front of you. It’s going to be a long flight.

Murphy’s law states that anything that can go wrong will and your flight is no exception. The packed jet is stuck taxing for almost an hour, courtesy of the trademark fog and rain of New York in the winter. You can feel the heat of Wooyoung’s gaze burn the side of your face, cheeks heating under his scrutiny. But the full scale meltdown threatening to unleash if you entertain him has no place in the sanctity of a last minute holiday flight of people just trying to make it to their next destination.

He doesn’t stop when the plane finally lurches forward, witnessing you brace for the worst part of flying; take off.

The loud rattles and pitch of jet engines skyrocket your blood pressure, flooding your mouth with saliva as a threat of vomiting everywhere; a sickening cold sweat pooling at your back. All you can do is close your eyes, and take deep calming breaths your guided meditation apps recommend. Running through the facts keeps you from descending into full panic. Airplanes are notoriously safe. The odds of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million. You’re more likely to die in a car crash or from something one of your patient’s brings into the hospital.

But the brief suspension in time and space as you rise through the atmosphere unsettles you to your core.

The panic steeping into your veins is temporary, eager to vanish the second you reach cruising altitude. It disappears like a late winter snow under early spring sunlight, leaving only trace evidence it ever existed in the first place. But it’ll be back with a vengeance under the screaming brakes and the sounds of wheels hitting pavement as you land.

The seatbelt sign chimes off, and the breath you’d failed to release follows the fading light that illuminated it.

Wooyoung tries to talk to you another two times before giving up. The final instance is a plea for the bathroom, which you graciously grant; thrilling in the relief you feel at his absence.

The poor guy between you two looks worse for wear, having offered to trade seats with either of you so you didn’t have to talk across him. You apologize once Wooyoung is out of earshot, excusing the strange behavior with a white lie that he's just a friend from college you didn’t get along with and hadn’t seen in a while. The stranger's name is Jay, and he laughs at the irony.

“That’s crazy that you two ended up on the same flight. Are you from Denver?”

“Oh, no. Just visiting some family in Lavensville. What about you?”

“No way! My mom is from Lanesville.”

“Small world,” you laugh. “So what took you to the city?”

“I’m in grad school at Columbia. Getting my MBA.”

“Excuse me.” Wooyoung arrives over your shoulder.

When you rise, you notice his face is tense as he passes to return to his seat. He pretends to sleep the rest of the flight as you chat with the man next to you.

Six laborious hours pass before you land in Denver. Exiting the plane, you leave Wooyoung behind in favor of waiting by the restrooms on the way to arrivals. You tap your foot impatiently as he stumbles over, clearly exhausted by the late arrival of your flight and the idea of another two hours in his mom’s cramped sedan.

Shuffling next to one another in somber silence, you wait for Wooyoung to speak first. He dragged you into this, and it’s his job to make it work.

“How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s work?”

“Fine.”

“Okay. Look.” He turns, stepping directly into your path and nearly toppling over when you bounce off his chest. “I’m sorry for all of this but you agreed to come so can we please at least act cordial?”

Unfortunately, Wooyoung is right. He might have put his foot in his mouth, but you didn’t take the chance to bail. He’s only fractionally more guilty than you.

“Fine.” You sigh.

He pins you with a look, eyebrows arched as if asking “are you sure?”

Shuffling around him, you begin your journey to baggage claim once again, Wooyoung hot on your heels.

“I’m working at a hospital uptown, I live in Yorkville, and I still prefer the buses to the train.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Wooyoung nods. “I’m at the same school, in the same apartment, and still living with San and Yeosang. But Mingi moved to Williamsburg with his girlfriend.”

You try to smother the snarkiness of your voice but a sarcastic “I know.” slips free.

Even if you weren’t as close with the boys due to the break up, they’d been your friends as much as his; especially Mingi’s girlfriend, who’d you introduced him to. Lia invited you to their housewarming party when they finally settled in but you missed it due to work, and the nerves of seeing Wooyoung so soon after such a fresh break up.

The conveyor belt of remaining unclaimed luggage spins like the saddest merry-go-round in existence. Wooyoung jumps forward to snatch your suitcase before you can react, rolling it your direction before diving back in for his own. Once out of the way, he calls his mom to confirm she’s pulling around to pick you two up.

The silver sedan whips to the curve, Wooyoung’s mom beaming from the driver’s seat.

“My babies!” She cries through the rolled down window.

Mrs. Jung always gave you the enthusiasm your own mother couldn’t feign. Smiling at her before circling the trunk where Wooyoung packs away your bags, you snatch his hand before he can throw it closed.

“Should we tell them I still live in Boston?”

As if you’ve just spoken another language, Wooyoung simply blinks at you.

“How are we gonna explain separate apartments? It makes no sense.”

“Oh,” he gasps, as if the thought didn’t occur to him. “Ugh, yeah good idea.”

The security guard monitoring the pick up area begins striding towards the car, inhaling to yell a warning. Throwing your remaining luggage inside the trunk roughly, you both sprint to enter the vehicle. Wooyoung plants himself in the passenger seat, squeezing his mom in a tight hug as you buckle in the middle seat. Untangling from her needy son, Mrs. Jung peels out and joins the line of cars attempting to merge on the interstate.

Reclining the seat back, Wooyoung knocks out immediately, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“How’s Boston, dear?” She chimes, voice light and bouncy despite the late hour.

You provide your stock answer for everytime someone asks over the past three years.

“Cold, wet. Lots of sick babies.”

“At least they’re consistent!”

You try to swallow the instinct to comb through Wooyoung’s hair as he naps. The first thing you learned about him in the early phase of your relationship was that Wooyoung needed some kind of physical contact at all times or he’d die. At least, he thought so. It’d been annoying at first; the constant hand holding, suffocating hugs that left your arms useless as you tried to study, even the overabundance of cartoonish kisses anywhere his lips could reach. But over eight years, you grew to appreciate his special way of showing affection. When words failed the man who always had something to say, he relied on touch to convey the things he couldn’t verbalize.

Even if you say all the right things and act like nothing's wrong, anyone who has ever been associated with Wooyoung will know something is up if he isn’t hanging off you like a koala. So if you’re going to pretend the last six months hadn’t happened then you have no reason not to treat him the way you always had.

Your nails snag on a few invisible tangles in his shaggy hair that spills across the cloth seat. It’s longer than when you last saw him in the summer, top half pulled back in an elastic. Continuing to provide updates, you gently brush the bangs hanging in his face. Wooyoung whines sleepily when you pause, causing his mom to laugh.

“Nice to know the city hasn’t changed him.”

Quick to appease, you start again before responding. “Eh, I don’t know about that. Have you seen some of his shoes?”

“Still?” She gasps.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s terminal.”

Mrs. Jung’s cackly laugh is a perfect doppelganger of her son’s. Shrill and mischievous, compelling you to laugh along in pure glee even if you don’t find shared humor; bewitched by the pure joy.

Once the initial rush of reunion wanes, she insists you doze along with her son. The gentle caress of warm air from the vents, paired with the smooth carols from the radio, lulls you down into a shallow rest.

Wooyoung

As his mom rolls to a stop in their driveway, the gentle glow of the car's cabin lights draw Wooyoung awake. Eyes only a quarter open, he stretches in the reclined seat with an obnoxious yawn, hands brushing the firm body of Y/N dozing behind him. She shrugs his hand off her thigh, burrowing back down into the collar of her sweater.

“Come on, sleepy heads. We’re home.” His mom announces as she opens her door.

Home for Wooyoung is a cream two story, five bedroom, three bathroom, Williamsburg Revival style home with royal blue shutters. His dad added the two car garage himself, meticulously matching the exterior to the existing home, blending old and new seamlessly under the watchful eye of his mom. The now gray and dead garden that usually bloomed wildly below the first floor windows was his grandmother’s contribution when she moved in before Wooyoung started highschool.

When his parents were two college students at the obscure liberal arts college Lavensville was built around, his mom had been obsessed with the very house Wooyoung grew up in. According to his dad, Wooyoung’s mom talked more about the house than anything else; a true historic preservationist to her core.

It was an odd way to ask someone to marry you, but his dad always said “Some women wanted a ring. Your mom wanted this house.”

His dad surprised her with the ring after she stopped crying about the house.

Golden string lights drip from the corners of the roof, casting the exterior in a buttery soft haze. Each window sporting a wreath with a thick red velvet ribbon. A heavy layer of snow coating the ground like powdered sugar makes the entire scene like something out of a snowglobe.

Another yawn before braving the inevitable blast of chilly air, Wooyoung spots Y/N in the rearview mirror; features curled in a sleepy scowl, eyes squinted against the sudden light.

Wooyoung joins his mom at the back of the car, crowding her away from the truck as she insists on helping them carry everything inside. She manages to snag his backpack and Y/N’s carryon before he can shoo her towards the path to the front door where his dad is jamming on an old pair of sneakers to come help.

“We got it!” Y/N calls across the icy lawn, bidding the older man to stay inside as she struggles with her suitcase.

“I can see that.” His dad laughs, jogging down the salted sidewalk curving along the front of the house to reach them.

His dad lifts her larger suitcase out of the truck with ease, leaving Wooyoung to roll his own inside while Y/N balances her tote bag and his carryon. The wheels grate against the uneven brick sidewalk as everyone rushes to return to the heated interior of the house.

It’s well past midnight as they climb the staircase in the foyer to the second floor. Wooyoung’s room is just as he left it the last time he visited in the spring. The headboard of the tiny twin bed resting against the wall just under the window looking out to the front yard, posters from his childhood still tacked up crookedly.

Wooyoung tries very hard not to think about the last time they shared the quilt covered bed of his childhood room. How the last trip here had been the last time Y/N slept in his arms, the last time he laid her bare beneath him. Six months and the memories felt as real as they had when it happened.

Sharing the tiny mattress could only mean trouble for the delicate truce Wooyoung had made with her in the airport.

“I can sleep on the floor.” He offers, unzipping his suitcase for clean clothes to sleep in.

Digging in her own suitcase, Y/N scoffs at the idea. “Don’t be stupid, what if Bibi comes in?”

“She’s gotten better about knocking!”

“Yeah, after she saw us having sex!”

Not like that’s gonna happen again.

“We can share the bed, it’s too cold up here to sleep on the floor.” Y/N says as she grabs her toiletry bag and shuffles to his door. “You’re a diva when you don’t get good sleep.”

“I’m not a diva” Wooyoung whines after her, rebuttal bouncing off the piece of wood separating them.

When Y/N returns from the bathroom, Wooyoung takes his turn to brush his teeth and wash his face. It’s just for a few days, he reminds himself. She leaves the day after Christmas and after he returns to the city he can tell his family they decided to part ways.

Until then, Wooyoung gathers all the patience he typically reserves for the army of eight year olds he deals with every day in an effort to not descend into insanity.

He finds her balancing on the edge of the narrow mattress, a sliver of space behind her for him to sink into. Neither says anything as the minutes tick by, both refusing to fall asleep despite the fatigue swirling over them attempting to find root. Back to back, Wooyoung stares at the wall as he tries not to listen to the gentle whoosh of Y/N breath.

December 22nd

Y/N

Shuffling into the cold kitchen, you barely crack your eyes open as you beeline for the coffee pot resting on the counter. Wooyoung’s mom greets you from the dining table, eyes scanning her newspaper as you reply with a mumble “morning.”

One would think years of twenty-four hour shifts and early mornings would make waking up easier but you’d sleep all day if given the chance; however, Wooyoung suffocating you like an octopus forced you from the heated sanctuary under the covers and downstairs. Already it was too easy to pretend you were still together. Waking up tangled in him, his face squashed against your sweater clad chest as he snored, blissfully unaware of the budding panic attack you’d calmed with a freezing shower full of choked tears.

Planting your rear in a dark oak dining chair around the table, the jolt of caffeine and sugar lulls your senses awake as you scroll your phone.

You send a text to your little brother, confirming your parents had made it to their cruise safely while your flight crossed the country. Two weeks in the Caribbean, all expenses paid, sounded a lot better than a week in rural Colorado with your ex-boyfriend. Thankfully, there’s no cell service in the middle of the ocean; so you don’t need to explain to your mother why you were spending Christmas with Wooyoung, who she truly was never fond of to begin with.

Sometime after bed, Lisa sent a string of vaguely threatening emojis and a picture of her yorkie with the Christmas sweater you bought as an early gift. Assuring her Wooyoung had been on his best behavior so far, you switched over to skim your clogged work email.

“Do you want some breakfast, sweetie?”

“This is fine.” You say, raising your mug.

“How can you be a doctor and try to tell me coffee is a healthy breakfast?”

“I have horrible news if you think doctors have time to do any of the things we tell people they should.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here then because you have plenty of time now.”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung hates waking up alone. It feels inexplicably wrong. Especially after sharing an apartment with Y/N for those four years she was in medical school. There’d been plenty of road bumps but spending every night curled up under the comforter with the woman he loved made it all fade to black. He never slept as good as those years.

Except this morning, he wakes up to Y/N’s fingers brushing his hair like she always did when they’d been together, and for a second Wooyoung thinks the entire breakup must’ve been a horrible dream. Wooyoung hadn’t moved a muscle lest the passes of her short nails sending goosebumps down his spine stopped. Eventually, the lazy drags lulled him back into the land of sleep as her heart sang his favorite lullaby.

The second time Wooyoung woke up, she’d been long gone and he felt the familiar emptiness he thought he’d forgotten after all these months apart.

Trudging down the stairs with loud footsteps, Wooyoung spots his mom in the kitchen, mouth spread wide over laughter as Y/N sits at the counter, cradling a mug of steaming coffee. If Wooyoung had to bet, the ceramic mug probably contained more sugar and milk than anything.

“Morning,” he grumbles, forehead resting against the cool marble of the island as he continues to doze in front of the audience.

His mom pats his back as she passes to reach the fridge, “Go sit down, Woo. You're in my way!”

“Everyone is so mean to me,” he pouts, but rounds the counter to sit next to Y/N nonetheless, resting his cheek on her shoulder, feeling her startle at the contact.

Wooyoung hides a satisfied smirk in her sweater when a hand starts scratching his back under his hoodie. He can almost forget their lying to everyone in the gentle passes of her cold fingers chilling against his hot skin.

“Your brother is getting in this afternoon so we thought of letting everyone relax until this evening and then having a game night.” His mom calls over her shoulder, busy with the pan heating in the flames of the stove.

“Where’s Kyungmin?”

“He went with Bibi to volunteer at the church this morning.”

“Sucker,” Y/N mumbles for Wooyoung’s ears only, sending him into giggles.

Wooyoung’s grandmother has a particular way of guilting everyone in his family to do exactly what she wants. It’s why he’s sharing his childhood bed with his ex-girlfriend, why his dad keeps the house unbearably warm all year round, and why his little brother is no doubt undergoing military grade interrogation first thing in the morning.

Going to church with Bibi was less about being closer to God and more about being paraded in front of her old lady friends with single granddaughters. Wooyoung had been a victim until he met Y/N, each summer at home more exhausting than the last with not so subtle reminders Ms. So-and-so's granddaughter was very pretty and very available. But the second Wooyoung sent a picture to his mom of the girl he had not so casually started dating fall semester of senior year, his grandmother ceased all effort to set him up. And after she met Y/N at graduation, Wooyoung beamed with the knowledge his entire family not only approved but liked his girlfriend.

Leaving poor Kyungmin to bare the brunt of Bibi’s well-meaning torture almost made Wooyoung feel guilty. Operative word being almost. Because Wooyoung had survived it, their older brother had survived it, and now it was Kyungmin’s turn to endure the special brand of Jung family meddling.

And the second his family finds out he's technically single, Wooyoung knows it’s only a matter of time before Bibi smothers him in his sleep for breaking up with the girl she considers family. And after, when she resurrects him from the dead, Wooyoung will be thrown to Bibi’s friends like a sacrificial lamb to starving wolves.

Stealing a sip of Y/N’s overly sweet coffee can’t clear his mouth of the sour taste.

“Wooyoung, you need to make up the guest bed for your brother.” His mom says, dropping a plate of eggs and toast on the counter for him and Y/N to share.

“What about her?” Wooyoung asks, lips stretching as he stuffs his face.

“She’s a guest!”

Washing down a harsh swallow with another sip of coffee, Wooyoung mutters a “hardly,” under his breath.

“Get your own!” Y/N snaps, shoving the mug out of his reach.

Wooyoung responds with a high pitched whine, huffing similar to a toddler rather than a man who's almost thirty. “Why are you both being so mean to me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Rising to pour his own mug of caffeinated gold, his mom quickly claims the empty chair before she bats Wooyoung away. Claiming something about “girl time” as an excuse to get him out of the kitchen before he can truly annoy them to his fullest potential.

Y/N

When the afternoon rolls around, Bibi greets you with a fierce hug and a grandmotherly pinch to your cheek, smiling up at you as she asks for any and every update since she last saw you in April for her birthday.

Luckily, Kyungmin unconsciously rescues you as he enters the house, boxes piled high in his arms of goodies from the other ladies at church trying to court him on their granddaughter’s behalf. Rushing to his aid, you give him a gentle side hug as you walk with him to the kitchen.

“So…” you start, eyeing the stacks of cookies crowding the counter. “How was church?”

A pained groan answers you, Kyungmin dropping his head to the marble counter with a thud.

You can’t contain your snicker, snagging one of the deformed gingerbread men to dunk in your fresh cup of coffee.

“Only a few more months,” Kyungmin mutters under his breath, the reprieve of college clearly tethering him to sanity.

Wooyoung told you all about Bibi’s ways when you started dating, thankful to no longer entertain doting mothers and grandmothers interested in him only because he was single and knew basic manners unlike many of the men lurking around Lavensville. Poor Kyungmin didn’t stand a chance if Wooyoung hadn’t managed to charm his way out until he got a girlfriend Bibi approved of.

“At least we get snacks out of it!” You clap, continuing to sort his haul as Kyungmin hides in his arms.

A tan hand sneaks over your shoulder to steal the decapitated cookie still in your grip, turning to see Wooyoung nibbling on arm as he observes the collection of cookies, fruit, and other treats.

“Come on!” You stomp your foot like a toddler.

“Tastes better when it’s stolen.” Wooyoung winks, forcing you and his brother to dry heave in unison. Your reaction isn't genuine, only an effort to hide the squeeze in your chest at how easily he can fall back into old habits after months of radio silence.

Wooyoung’s mom breezes into the kitchen, unbothered by your bickering as she types out a text message.

“Myungho and Mia land in an hour. Your dad is already on the way to pick them up.” She rattles off, more to herself than anyone else. “Kyungmin, you need to tidy all of this up. Wooyoung you already put clean sheets on the guest bed? Great. Y/N, dear, would you mind helping with dinner later?”

“Of course.”

—

Dinner consists of chili you didn’t assist with other than pulling out extra toppings from the fridge for, and everyone chattering around the table. Myungho is sharing some story about his and Mia’s neighbor who refused to close their blinds, everyone laughing at Mia’s grimace when she recalled the horrors of the “tighty-whities” incident. Each time you stay with the Jung’s you're shocked how well they get along, everyone slotting together perfectly like some cheesy sitcom family.

It’s not that your family didn’t love each other, but there was little bonding you together other than shared blood and memories. Your mom clearly favored your brother while your dad tried to make up for the snub by prioritizing you. Growing up with the invisible competition left bitter resentment to this day. At least now, after years of therapy and freedom from the suffocating expectations of your childhood home, you and your brother shared a mutual understanding that it was your parents fault for the animosity between you. Nothing could the damage already deeply ingrained, but you’d become a more united front during family affairs.

That’d been the first time you and Wooyoung fought in your tentative relationship. He hadn’t seemed to understand how you could talk about your brother with such vitrole, confused why you weren’t more excited to see him after living in the city permanently since sophomore year. Not that you’d explained your family dynamic prior to calling him in a full blown meltdown in Washington Square Park at midnight. But Wooyoung listened. And when you brought up how perfect his family seemed, he quickly corrected your assumption.

Wooyoung knew his parents loved him and his brothers equally. But they were helping him pay thousands of dollars in tuition out of state for him to be a teacher while his older brother made six figures fresh out of college as an engineer. Even if they were happy for him, Wooyoung struggled with the internal conflict of idolizing his brother and feeling like he’d never measure up.

It’d been the first time Wooyoung cried in front of you.

The tense conversation and awkward small talk of your childhood home didn’t seem to have space here at the Jungs, nothing but laughter and warmth filling each nook and cranny. Even the awkwardness of sitting next to your ex-boyfriend, pretending he was still your partner, seemed to be stifled with the company.

“So, Y/N, when are you planning to move back to New York? You finished residency, right?” Mia asks over her glass of wine, eyes bright.

“Ugh,” you stutter, unprepared for such directness.

“Or maybe you’re thinking of moving to Boston?” She eyes Wooyoung.

“We’re, uh,” Wooyoung pipes up, frantically looking at you.

“I’m looking at jobs in the city but nothings come up yet.”

“That sucks.” Myungho chimes, working to help their father clear the table for games.

Rather than answering, you take a long draw of your drink before rising to hide in the bathroom.

In the silence of the small half bath under the stairs, you attempt to control your stuttering breath. A few splashes of cool water on your face help shock your system but it does nothing to stop the It’d taken years to perfect the stone-faced facade you presented to families when the outcome was less than favorable.

A light tap at the door startles you from the nose dive your conscious has taken.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You call, scrubbing your hands in the sink.

“It’s me,” Wooyoung chirps on the other side of the wood.

Opening the door, Wooyoung leans his shoulder against the jamb, eying you warily. Pulling him into the cramped space, you press the door closed as you lean against.

“I can’t do this, Woo. I can’t lie to them.”

“Don’t think of it as lying! Just pretend you're back in that drama class in college!”

“Oh, you mean the class I almost failed because I couldn’t act?” You whisper harshly.

“Just let me take the lead okay? All you have to do is be normal.”

Another knock on the door startles you both. When you got so close to Wooyoung, you have no idea, but there are only a scant few inches between you and you can smell the peppermint schnapps on his breath.

“Wooyoung, Y/N. Is everything okay?”

Twisting around your stiff body, Wooyoung nudges you out of the way as he twists the handle and pulls the door inward.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung answers, opening the door to a concerned Bibi. “She wasn’t feeling well.”

Bibi brushes past him, the cool back of her wrinkled hand pressing against your forehead. “Are you okay, dear?”

“I’m fine, just got a little light headed.”

One arm curls around yours, the other gently patting your back as Bibi guides you back towards the kitchen with Wooyoung trailing behind.

“You know, when I was pregnant with Wooyoung’s father I got lightheaded all the time.”

“Oh?”

Bibi’s implication isn’t lost on you, or Wooyoung for that matter when you hear him curse as he trips behind you.

“Almost everyday I’d have to drink a gallon of ginger tea just to get out of bed.” She guides you into a seat before turning. “I’ll make you cup while the boys set everything up, okay?”

“That’s really not neccess–”

But Bibi is already filling the kettle and rummaging in the cabinets for tea bags as if you didn’t speak at all.

Wooyoung

Cursing his grandmother for making an already tense situation worse, Wooyoung shakes his head as she flutters around the kitchen. Perhaps he should be relieved Bibi moved away from asking when they were getting married and fast forwarding straight to asking for grandchildren. At least Wooyoung hadn’t been as close to being the dad as he was as being a husband. Kids were completely hypothetical; but marriage had almost been a reality.

Kyungmin is already setting up the Scrabble board and dishing out letters. Eight people was far too many so like every year they divide into pairs. Mom and Dad, Myungho and Mia, Kyungmin and Bibi, and him and Y/N.

The board begins to crowd with letters. Bibi and Kyungmin struggle to play anything worth more than fifteen points while his parents brush off challenge after challenge as they fill the board with words like “Paczki” and “Rudistid.”

“Quips, baby! Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a Q?” Mia asks everyone, high fiving Myungho next to her.

Wooyoung exchanges a conspiratory smile with Y/N before he ruins their celebration. “I know! And when you have a U and an I and every other letter I need for QUILTING on a double word score. Plus bingo for all the tiles we don’t have…Boom 96 points.”

Arms thrown around each other's shoulders, he bounces up and down with Y/N in victory. Their cheeks squish together, matching bright tipsy grins pulled across their lips. Almost like everything is normal.

“No fair! You’re an English teacher!” Kyungmin protests, nostrils flared.

“Yeah to third graders, Minnie. You know just as many words as they do, I promise.”

Y/N doesn’t move from his hold except to take another swig of the tea his grandmother made her. Wooyoung tries not to think about what it means; having an arm curled around the back of her chair while she settles into the crook of his chest, watching his family over the top of her head, relaxing firm pressure of her body against his own. Taking the tentative peace for granted, Wooyoung greedily overindulges in the illusion of normalcy.

December 23rd

Y/N

In the cool toned light of the snowy dawn, you wake in Wooyoung’s arms once again. This time you're both on your sides, Wooyoung pressed firmly behind you as he snores in your ear. A familiar lump pokes against your rear, scorching your skin through the layers of clothes that serepate you.

Wiggling in his grip, you're ashamed of the quiet moan fleeing your lips as Wooyoung flexes his arms to hold you tighter, his hips rolling against you harshly to pin you to him.

Blame it on the months without feeling another person’s touch, or the liminal space that exists when the world is asleep and void of any real consequences, but a hollowness stings your core and dampens your panties.

Years of dating meant years of exploring one another’s bodies, discovering every spot that drove the other mad and perfecting the balance of teasing and satisfaction. You still remember the first night in your shared apartment years ago; Wooyoung blindfolded and tied to the bed, putty under your fingers as you rode him until your eyes felt permanently crossed and your legs numb. And just when you thought the night was over, sated with his cum leaking onto the sheets, Wooyoung knotted the silk scarf around your own wrist and “cleaned up” the mess between your thighs until you actually blacked out.

The very memory has you arching backwards, clenching around nothing but disappointing emptiness.

It’s wrong. So so so wrong. To fantasize about your ex-boyfriend while he’s asleep next to you, none the wiser to your stuttered breath and pounding heart.

But the way his hand on your stomach fists the fabric of your shirt, pulling you into him again, beckons you closer to the edge of temptation. Wooyoung told you to act natural. What’s more natural than enjoying some half asleep heavy petting? You’re already pretending to date him, why not reap some of the old benefits you’d missed in your time apart?

Just as you turn in Wooyoung’s arms, set on waking him with an offer even he can’t refuse, he yawns awake. Arms stretching high, he pushes you from the toasty covers and onto the floor with a bang!

“Jesus Christ!” You groan, jolting pain in your elbow shocking your system as it catches the edge of the bed frame.

Wooyoung’s head pops over the side of the mattress, “Why’re you down there?”

Scoffing, the back of your head thuds against the floor; eyes sinking shut as you fight the urge to murder him. Three more days and you’ll never have to deal with the ridiculousness that follows Wooyoung like a shadow.

You hear, rather than see, Wooyoung exit into the hallway. Stretching your lungs around another deep breath, you follow behind him. Passing the bathroom door as you pad down stairs, you're greeted with an empty kitchen. The stove clock reads just past nine so more bodies should trickle in soon, called by the coffee you’ve begun brewing. Sending a silent prayer to the universe, you prepare for quality time with Mrs. Jung and Mia. Another day of lying to the people who treat you better than your own family.

Wonderful.

Wooyoung

Like a teenager with his first wet dream, Wooyoung hides in the sanctuary of the bathroom.Thankfully, his brothers aren’t prone to waking before noon and he stakes his claim by locking the door and entering the steam.

Maybe dry humping his ex-girlfriend while half asleep was a bad idea but Wooyoung knows she pushed back into him with a purpose. He’d heard the whimper she tried to silence, felt her press her legs together the way she did when she was wet and needed his help.

Wooyoung hadn’t meant to launch her to the floor but overdue break up sex with the rest of the house due to wake up any minute couldn’t be a good idea. And with three more days of their charade Wooyoung needed less complications, not more.

But the knowledge of how wrong he should feel doesn’t stop the memories of them together from placating his mind as he palms his aching cock. Months of abstinence fail to dissolve Wooyoung’s photorealistic memories of his ex-girlfriend in compromising positions; bent in half to take his cock, staring down her nose as she sits in his lap. And his personal favorite, Y/N on her knees, eyes watering as her swollen lips stretch around his length, the flared head nudging the back of her throat.

The swiftnesses of his orgasm is a fatal blow against his fragile ego. Biting the meat of his fist, Wooyoung watches his cum sink down the drain. Unfortunately, the confusion pulsing through him doesn’t follow.

—

As Wooyoung descends to the living room, he spots his dad and his brothers watching a documentary on the Discovery channel. Sinking into the worn leather of their ancient couch, he cracks open one of the books he brought from home. Brave New World wasn’t light reading, but he’d been meaning to give it a try since Yeosang recommended it to him and what better way to spend his free time?

Soon enough, his dad snores from his spot in the recliner, chin tipped back against the headrest. Kyungmin remains entranced by the colorful birds dancing across the screen while his other brother no doubt taps away at work emails cluttering his phone despite the holidays. It’s the kind of peace and content Wooyoung loved about his family. Co-existing without needing to interact, enjoying each other's presence while living their own lives.

Y/N

The acrid sting of acetone and nail polish burn your nose under the harsh white lights of the nail salon. Mia is happily chattering away, blasting through any stilled pauses or awkward silences. Bibi and Mrs. Jung sit at the counter getting their nails painted by the attendants in calm silence.

You try not to kick the young woman scrub your foot as she brushes against your ticklish nerves, squirming in your seat as she gives a tight lipped smile at your discomfort. For a week off for Christmas you cashed in every favor, picked up every single on call asked of you, nearly breaking under the demand to stretch yourself so thin as the new doctor in your department. The horrific results of hours on your feet were being ground down and clipped before you.

Relaxing was… difficult for you. Or other peoples’ definition of relaxation was. To you, the perfect day off was running around town, hitting an early morning pilates class followed by an overpriced coffee and finding something to do in the city that offered everything. Sitting still was a necessary evil to get to and fro but it left you to stew with your thoughts you preferred to drown in an overwhelming weight of activity.

“Y/N,” Mia calls, bringing you to turn and look at her.

Her usually glowing face is apprehensive, lip worried between her teeth and eyes downcast.

“Yeah?”

“You work with kids, right?”

“All day.” You laugh, trying to break the tension.

Mia hesitates, struggling to find the words she wants to say. “After all the stuff you’ve seen, do you still want them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you and Wooyoung think you’ll have kids someday?”

“I mean not anytime soon considering…”

That we aren’t together. You finish in your mind.

But Mia assumes the unspoke truth is the fact you’re supposed to be living in Boston while Wooyoung is living in New York.

“I mean of course, but like you guys both work with kids and I feel like you know the worst that could happen! My friend Mina just had her baby and she says she can’t sleep. She just sits up all night watching him because she’s afraid somethings gonna happen.”

“Mia, are you and Myungho?”

“Not yet,” she smiles. “But we’ve been talking about it more and I know I want that with him but I’m just—”

“Scared?”

She nods sheepishly.

Hesitating as you weigh your next words carefully, you think about all the conversations you’ve had with worried parents. Most of the kids and parents you met were under less than positive circumstances. Babies with underdeveloped lungs, toddlers who couldn’t breath from just sitting up. You’d be lying if it didn’t make you question having your own. The powerlessness you felt when no matter how hard you worked to fix things it was all for naught.

But all of the bad days don't outweigh the good ones. When NICU preemies got to leave the ward with their families for the first time. Having a child take their first full breath because their medication was finally starting to work. The plethora of thank you cards hanging on your fridge and displayed in your office from the families you’d helped.

And you remember all the stories Wooyoung told you about his classroom. Kids who could barely read falling in love with the books he gave to them, hounding him for more stories. When he made way with a problem child, watching them begin to excel under his gentle guidance. Giggling at Wooyoung hiding his tears at the end of year advancement ceremony when all his third graders became fourth graders every year.

“I think being scared means you care. And you can always call me if you’re worried, no matter what happens.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” Mia laughs.

“You’re gonna be a great mom.” You whisper, squeezing her arm.

Mia squeezes your hand back, “I always wondered what it’d be like to have a sister.”

“Me too.”

You look away as Mia blinks, breathing away the wetness glossing your own eyes.

—

Upon returning home, you find all four men passed out in various positions in the living room. Mr. Jung in the recliner that predates your birth, mouth wide open and glasses crooked on his nose. Sprawled across the floor is Kyungmin, gangly teenage limbs starfished to the edges of the carpet. Wooyoung and Myungho share a blanket across their laps, both with their backs on opposite sides of the couch.

You four try to contain your laughter at the sight. If there was any doubt about who fathered the Jung boys, the shaggy black hair and symphony of identical snores would easily lay those rumors to rest.

Bibi shuffles down the hall to her room, claiming a nap to be a great idea after the pampering from the nail salon. Mia and Mrs. Jung head into the kitchen, each teething with bulging bags of groceries for tonight's gingerbread competition.

But you can’t take your eyes off Wooyoung. The only time he ever looked so peaceful was when he was sleeping, face positively boyish and missing the stress induced wrinkles from managing a class of eight year olds. The urge to cross to him and kiss the freckle on his lower lip floods your brain but you’re able to stuff it down when he whines in his sleep, twisting to re-adjust on the lumpy couch.

Following the shuffle of plastic bags echoing from the kitchen, you busy yourself with unpacking the boxes of pre-made gingerbread houses, candy, and tubes of icing. Neatly organizing the packages on the counter, Mrs. Jung pushes you and Mia upstairs as she starts to prepare dinner.

The clock on the stove shows it’s closing in on three, giving you enough time to shower and have a nap of your own before the mayhem of the evening.

Cranking the faucet to the highest setting, you waste no time waiting for it to heat as you jump under the cold water. Wooyoung called you a psychopath the first time he witnessed you shower routine but you’d been busy applying for medical school, working in the student health center, and tutoring in the biology lab, all while maintaining a perfect GPA in the fall semester of your senior year; you didn’t have time for the simple pleasures of wasting precious minutes while your apartment’s old pipes struggled to carry hot water through the faucet. And as they say, old habits die hard.

The chill brings sharp clarity with it. It’d only been two days and you’d already fallen into the same bickering as before, been tempted to kiss him when no one was around to fool, and nearly fucked him in his childhood bed.

Three more days. You think, shivering lessening as steam billows around you.

Then you can leave this entire maddening ordeal behind you forever.

Wooyoung

The squeeze of Wooyoung’s heart threatens to topple him to his knees at the sight of Y/N curled up in his bed. His old college hoodie circles her face, lips pouted and eyebrows furrowed at whatever dream world she’s lost in.

Wooyoung aches to wake her up with innocent kisses as he holds her to his chest, fingers ironing out the wrinkles of her forehead as she breaches the surface of sleep. To smile at her whines of protest of being interrupted from a rare opportunity to rest without worrying about work or some other responsibility.

But what Wooyoung wants, he doesn’t deserve. As bold and indulgent as he might be in front of the prying eyes of his family, he isn’t cruel. Even if it kills him not to touch her like he used to be able to, Wooyoung won’t subject her to the torture of his feelings. It’s the least he can do for pulling Y/N into this sham after ending their relationship without explanation.

“Y/N,” he whispers, fingers prodding her shoulder. “Gotta wake up.”

She responds with a throaty groan, pulling the edge of the blanket over her head to hideaway.

“C’mon it's almost time for dinner.”

“Youngie, it’s cold.” Y/N protests as he tries to lift the covers.

Grinding his teeth against the nickname, Wooyoung continues to pry the quilt from her iron grip.

“I can get Bibi up here.”

Flying into a seated position, she blinks against the overhead light. “I’m up!”

“That’s what I thought.” Wooyoung smirks, crossing to the door. “Let’s go sunshine.”

Y/N mutters empty threats under her breath the entire way to the kitchen, so close she’s cast in his shadow under the threat of Bibi’s wake up methods. Nothing like a woman pushing eighty banging pots over your head to get the blood pumping.

Everyone else already crowds the table, picking apart the trays of snacks as they organize their supplies kits.

Jung family tradition requires everyone, sans Bibi, to decorate their own house according to the year's theme. After an hour, she picks her favorite and the winner has the honor of opening the first present on Christmas morning. Y/N demolished Myungho’s long standing winning streak the first year she entered the competition; Mia taking her place the next year in Y/N’s absence. Since then, Kyungmin reigned supreme despite his creation looking like a haunted house no matter what the theme was.

“Alright,” Bibi stands once Wooyoung and Y/N have taken their seats at the end of the table. “This year's theme is movies. On your mark, get set. Go!”

A room full of adults, plus Kyungmin who's only a few months short, should act with a sense of decorum and dignity. A fair and clean competition in the name of holiday spirit, family, and comradery.

But Jung house rules mean cheating is not only expected, it’s encouraged.

The table is warzone. Icing dripping off the sides and onto the tile floor. Candies trailing everywhere like shrapnel. Mia hides a piece of Myungho’s roof in her lap, and their mom steals the level their dad insists on using every year. Even Kyungmin slowly starts hoarding the bags of colorful royal frosting one by one in the pocket of his hoodie before anyone can notice.

Wooyoung catches Y/N attempting to eat his bag of gumdrops in his periphery. Their half gone by the time he’s noticed but he simply laughs under his breath. What she doesn’t know is that those are her gumdrops and his are stashed under the table since they sat down.

The little sugar addict is nothing if not predictable.

Most of the houses are beginning to take shape, albeit much more loose definitions of whatever each person decided to do. Kyungmin’s house is poop green with a red roof, streaks of color patchy against the brown cookie sheets. His mom sticks with the traditional decorations instructed on the packaging, no doubt prepared to argue it somehow fits the theme despite being the same every year. Mia’s is laced garishly with pink and pastels, while Myungho crumbles pieces of his for whatever godforsaken reason.

Wooyoung focuses on decorating his tiny gingerbread man with black slashes and stripes.

“Time!” yells Bibi as she whacks the bottom of a pot with a wooden spoon, everyone drops their last piece of candy before hands fly up.

As always, his mom manages to be the only one to finish due to years of practice. Everyone else’s houses are… interesting.

“Mine’s the Grinch,” Kyungmin says.

“The Grinch?” Y/N asks, confused by the horrendous green and red abomination.

“See, you get it!”

Shaking her head, Y/N points to her own monstrosity. “Okay, so the yellow skittles are the yellow brick road and the green on the house is meant to look like the Emerald City from Wizard of Oz.”

Perhaps if the Emerald City burned to the ground and became ruins but everyone nods at the vision.

“Mine is supposed to be Barbie's Dream house.” says Mia, gesturing to the mound of pink frosting sliding from the roof.

Myungho slams a toy dinosaur from their childhood on top of his pile of cookie pieces before declaring, “Jurassic Park.”

“Home Alone,” his mom chimes.

A chorus of groans around the table answer.

His dad’s is covered in chocolate bars and marshmallows. It looks decent but Wooyoung doesn’t get it until he tells them it’s “Willy Wonka.”

Nodding in appreciation, Wooyoung presents his.

“Nightmare Before Christmas.”

The gray and black icing swirl to make a ugly blob, but Wooyoung will argue it’s exactly what he was going for. Especially with his miniscule Jack Skellington perched in the yard.

Bibi circles the table, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at each entry. She shakes her head at Kyungmin, clearly disappointed in his failure this year.

“Eunkyung wins!” She cheers, raising his mom’s hand like she won a boxing match.

Claps and whoops fill the kitchen as she beams, proud to win a second time in the history of the competition.

“Wooyoung, put the winning house on the mantel please.” His dad asks, already moving towards the pantry for trash bags.

“Your majesty.” Wooyoung bows in front of his mom, laughing when she slaps his shoulder.

What he fails to realize is Y/N is leaving the same door he is, and that a sprig of green leaves sit just above their heads.

“Mistletoe!” his mom squeals.

“Huh?” Grunts Y/N, confused.

Wooyoung looks up and spots the infuriating piece of decoration, another pair of eyes trailing after his own.

If they were still dating, Wooyoung would swoop her into his arms and make an entire production of giving her a short peck on the cheek, his parents were watching after all, while Y/N laughed at his ridiculousness. But now he hesitates as he looks into her eyes, barely missing the nod as she leaves a brief kiss on his lips before turning and leaving the room.

Even under the brief contact, Wooyoung’s lips feel like they’ve been zapped with lightning; his entire body on high alert. So lost in his own world, Wooyoung doesn’t realize he watches her walk away until she’s turning a corner and is out of sight.

Remembering the gingerbread house still in his hand, Wooyoung continues into the living room to place it front and center on the mantel.

Y/N

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! You think, watching yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth.

You’d spent the rest of the night sweaty and flushed, stuttering like an idiot because of a G-rated kiss with your ex-boyfriend for crying out loud.

What was wrong with you?

It was like the butterflies of the beginning of your relationship were waking from dormancy, demanding to let loose in your chest.

But none of this is real. Wooyoung only reached out so Bibi wouldn’t be upset over a last minute cancellation. He didn’t ask to explain why he ended your relationship so suddenly. Didn’t try to weasel his way back in and kiss everything better. All the touching and joking you’d missed so much were nothing more than an elaborate plan for Wooyoung to not be seen as the bad guy by his family. His way of delaying the inevitable.

And you’d fallen right into the mess subconsciously hoping it might have meant something more.

The foaming residue of toothpaste splashes against the porcelain sink as you finish washing up. Hiding in the bathroom can only buy you so much time before you have to face Wooyoung again, a new feast of tension waiting for you on a silver platter.

His tiny room is notably empty. Wooyoung nowhere to be seen as you burrow into the blankets. Hopefully, he stays away until you're fully unconscious and able to avoid the entire ordeal.

—

A draft of frigid air invading the warm haze under your mountain of quilts wakes you. Wooyoung shushes your indignant protest, pulling the top layers off. His weight doesn’t dip the bed behind you. Instead, you listen as he shuffles around, the dull thud of pillows and blankets hitting the floor. When he quiets, you turn to see him curled into a ball on a makeshift sleeping matt next to the bed.

The questions burn on the tip of your tongue. Why is he sleeping on the floor? Was he that upset about the kiss?

But you don’t ask and Wooyoung doesn’t provide an answer.

December 24th

Wooyoung

Christmas eve is Wooyoung’s favorite part of the holidays. Not even a poor night sleep on the freezing unforgiving floor can dull his excitement.

He’d risen early, sneaky out of the room the second the sun peaked from the horizon and illuminated the space. Y/N slept soundly, back turned away from him as he evaded her successfully.

A fresh powder of snow fell sometime in the night. So with a hot cup of coffee and a need to get lost in something mindlessly physical, Wooyoung heads to the garage for a shovel to clear the sidewalk and driveway.

Wooyoung knows he should apologize to her. She’d basically avoided him after they got caught under the mistletoe, scurrying upstairs the second it was polite for her to do so. Technically, she kissed him. But the entire situation wouldn’t exist if he didn’t put his foot in his mouth.

Plus, the entire ordeal of yesterday morning couldn’t be ignored. And Wooyoung was ashamed he didn’t feel ashamed.

Mind numb in the cold monotony of moving slush from the concrete to the yard, muscles burning at the strain, Wooyoung loses track of time as the sun moves across the sky.

His dad finds him shoveling the end of the driveway, pants soaked and breath heaving.

“You okay, kid?” the older man asks, sipping his thermos.

“Fine,” Wooyoung pants. “Why?”

“Because you’re out here.”

“Just helping out.”

“Wooyoung.” A sharp sternness to his tone as his dad’s gloved hands halt the shovel.

He hates that voice. Wooyoung’s dad was soft spoken and good natured, the quietest member of their boisterous family. Always gentle with three rowdy sons that constantly pushed the endless bounds of his patience. Wooyoung can count on one hand the times his dad used this voice on him. Apparently now is one of those times.

Wooyoung looks his dad in the eye before lying to his face, “I’m fine. Really.”

Eying his son skeptically, Wooyoung’s dad clearly doesn’t believe him.

“Alright.” he drawls. “But come inside, your mom made pancakes.”

Y/N

“Come on Kyungmin, we don’t want to be late!” Bibi calls from the hallway.

In front of you, Kyungmin blanches; terrified of another day surrounded by prodding grandmothers. He looks at you for help, but you offer a sympathetic smile and a shrug of shoulders. If only he knew how much torture you were being subjected to in the name of keeping Bibi happy.

Wooyoung had been scarce since the early hours of the morning, slaving away at clearing the driveway alone. He made a brief appearance at breakfast and lunch but found any excuse to stay faraway from whatever room you planted yourself in.

Taking the hint, you set up camp in the kitchen. Laptop screen reflecting off your blue-light glasses as you skimmed another journal article about forced oscillation technique and impulse oscillometry. Fascinating as it was to you, it’s just boring enough to anyone else to keep them away; allowing you to waste away the entire afternoon in the most productive way possible.

The sun is already setting by the time others begin to trickle into the kitchen. Mia begins filling snack trays for the trademark movie night; half sweet, half savory. While Myungho sets to work on a batch of mulled cider they picked up at the market.

Kyungmin stomps into the kitchen with a fuming Bibi hot on his heels.

“They’re nice girls, Kyungmin. There was no need to be rude!”

Your wide eyes meet Mia's twin expressions of shock. The youngest was a sweet kid; perhaps he had an attitude sometimes, but he was a teenager after all. To hear he’s been out right rude and in front of Bibi no less, comes as a surprise.

“You’re crazy!” Kyungmin yells, arms waving wildly before he flees to his room.

The sudden silence of the kitchen is rattling. No one moves or speaks as Bibi starts organizing random objects and mail on the counter, clearly uncomfortable with her grandson’s outburst.

Slipping from your chair, you turn to follow in the direction you know he’s bound for.

—

Winter in Colorado is brutal enough, but the wind slicing across your cheeks as you teeter out a tiny window onto the roof at the back of the house makes you regret wearing only a sweatshirt and matching sweatpants.

Kyungmin’s lone figure is illuminated in the silver moonlight. A telltale stench fills your nostrils despite the thick smoke evaporating in the wind the second it leaves his mouth. Waddling towards him on your butt, you stop next to him. He passes the glass bowl into your waiting hand without a peep.

You take a long hit before speaking, allowing the tingle of THC to flutter through your veins.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask, cradling your knees to your chest in an effort to conserve warmth.

“No.”

“Okay.”

The thick woods fencing in the backyard bends in the wind. Pine trees shake the fronds like feathers, fluffing up as the wind flutters by. A lone swing, attached to a rickety playground set, swings back and forth. It’s beautiful and eerie. Only your breath and the occasional cough from Kyungmin disturbs the fragile place.

“I can’t wait to go to college.” Kyungmin mutters from under his hood.

“Have you heard from anywhere yet?”

“No. But I don’t care where I go as long as I’m not here.”

“Was it that bad?”

“She’s crazy! All of them in that fucking church are insane!”

“Wooyoung told me the same thing.” You chuckle.

“They just stare at me. It’s creepy.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty creepy.”

“And Andi just laughs whenever I try to tell her about it.”

“Who’s Andi?”

“A friend.”

Kyungmin’s tense response tells you Andi isn’t just a friend at all.

“What's she like?”

“She’s nice. She’s in my history class at school.”

“Oh?”

“And she got a scholarship to play soccer in Georgia.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“So you like her?”

“I mean, of course I do. She’s my best friend.”

“Kyungmin…”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s so out of my league.” Kyungmin sighs.

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s smart, and she’s athletic, and she’s funny. She wouldn’t see me like that.”

“Okay.” You nod, “Well, when Bibi started pimping you out at church, what did Andi do?”

“She got really mad when I went on a date with one of them.”

“Oh, really?”

“She didn’t talk to me for like two weeks. I thought she was just, like, on her period or something.”

Shaking your head, you turn to face the ignorant boy. “Alright, first things first. Never, under any circumstances, assume a girl is mad at you because she’s on her period. Ask your brothers or your dad how that's worked out for them. Second, how would you feel if Andi went on a date with someone?”

Face twisting in disgust, Kyungmin grabs the piece again to take a hit.

“Exactly. Maybe you should ask her on a date.”

Kyungmin snorts at the idea, “Yeah, sure.”

“Party out here?” Myungo calls from the window.

Turning, you spot Wooyoung and Mia peaking around his broad shoulders.

“Yeah but it’s B.Y.O.W.”

“Perfect.” He calls back, folding in half to step on the roof.

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

“Okay.” Kyungmin promises as he links his pinky with yours.

Mia and Myungho land on Kyungmin’s other side, a joint visible in Mia’s dainty fingers. Wooyoung plops down next to you, lifting the bowl from Kyungmin and dumping the ash on to the roof.

As he focuses on packing it, you get your first glimpse of him all day. The tip of his nose is red and he keeps sniffling, no doubt from the hours he spent outside or in the garage doing who knows what. Wooyoung’s hair is a mess of tangles, sticking this way and that in the wind and you choke on the urge to straighten it for him.

You’ve never been good at staying mad at him, even when he’s clearly in the wrong. And what’s worse is Wooyoung knows it.

Wisps of smoke pour from his nostrils before he passes you the bowl again. Shaking your head, Kyungmin plucks it from his brother’s fingers.

You feel Wooyoung’s breath caress the shell of your ear before he speaks.

“What are you guys doing out here?” He whispers.

“Bibi.” You whisper back.

Wooyoung nods lazily, eyes glazed already. Landing on his back, he looks up to the sky.

The pale light sharpens his features. Strange how all three brothers looked so similar yet different. Kyungmin still had the round cheeks of adolescents, limbs gangly as he towers over his brothers at only seventeen. Myungho was broader than both but only a fraction taller than Wooyoung, square jaw and cropped hair. But Wooyoung was all angles and sharpness. Even from the first night he approached you in that dingy karaoke bar near campus, you knew he was handsome. But now he looks ethereal. Like some beautiful demon coming to take your soul and laugh all the while.

Eventually you all end up shoulder to shoulder, each lost and thought and staring at the lonely full moon above. Wooyoung’s hand brushes your own, sending throbbing jolts of electricity through your body. Hooking your pointer finger around his, Wooyoung sighs next to you before settling.

It somehow hurts worse than if he would have let go.

Wooyoung

Exhaustion and pot nearly knock Wooyoung out as he passes his bedroom door. An early night, lost in the land of dreams where he doesn’t have to think about why he can’t look Y/N in the eye; why he felt a punch in the gut when he spotted her on the roof with his little brother, taking care of him like Kyungmin was her own family; how he wanted to cry when her fingers circled his own.

Wooyoung’s attempt to uncomplicate his life only seemed to tighten the noose around his neck.

Jung family tradition dictates a Christmas movie with gross amounts of sugary snacks on Christmas Eve. The tradition started before Wooyoung could remember but it’d been his favorite all the same. What little kid didn’t cherish the opportunity to wake up to Santa dropping presents under the tree? Not that he or his brothers managed to stay awake more than half way through whatever movie his parents pulled from the dusty DVD collection on the bookshelf. But as he grew older, Wooyoung appreciated the uninterrupted time he was gifted to spend with his family, especially with each of them living in separate corners of the country.

The new set of matching pajamas every year were simply a bonus.

This year’s boast a deep green with a vintage Christmas light pattern. The inner flannel is positively delightful against Wooyoung’s freezing skin, lulling him into a light doze as leans against the couch between Y/N’s spread legs.

Kyungmin sprawls in his usual place on the rug in front of the coffee table, glazed eyes glued to Will Ferell terrorizing New York City in yellow tights. Mia and Myungho are off on the other side of the couch, Bibi taking the middle seat. His parents are snug in his dad’s recliner, resembling two teenagers rather than the fifty year olds they really are. Adorably disgusting how in love they still are.

Resting his cheek against Y/N’s knee, Wooyoung twists his hands in his lap. He can’t touch her. Not sober and absolutely not high out of his mind like he is at this very moment. Because if he starts, Wooyoung is too weak to stop himself. And considering the way she keeps staring at him every time she thinks he isn’t looking, Wooyoung doesn’t think Y/N would want him to stop either.

—

Bedtime is the same awkward dance as before. His entire family pulls each other into tight hugs, mostly aided by the edibles Myungho slipped them before they all descended downstairs. Calls of “Love you,” and “see you in the morning,” land against his back as he trails behind Y/N.

They get ready for bed in the dark, flashes of bare skin visible in the light trickling in from the cracked curtains covering the lonely window. Turning to face the wall, Wooyoung plugs in his phone while he listens for her to land on the mattress.

When the shuffling ceases, he finds her in a nest on the floor, back towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“You took the floor last night.”

“You don’t hav–”

“Just go to bed.” She bites, voice fragile.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he huffs, temper rising as he crosses to the other side of the mattress.

“I’m fine.”

“Just take the bed.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Sitting up, Wooyoung barely makes out her scowl. “Why do I need to explain everything to you?”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn? Me?”

“Considering you’re the one on the floor while the bed is empty, yes you’re the stubborn one.”

“Because I’m fine here!”

Wooyoung wades through the quicksand of his brain for a response. Upon finding none, he flops on the pile of blankets next to her.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Now shut up.”

“Wooyoung,” she sighs.

No more energy to fight, Wooyoung burrows deeper into the mound of quilts; set to sleep next to her on the floor if she continues to refuse the bed. If he was a diva on poor sleep, Y/N was a menace. She’d cave eventually when her hips ached from the painful stiffness of the unbending wood.

Except Wooyoung can’t sleep. All of his nerves are heightened next to her. His entire left side burns in her heat, acutely aware of every shift of her weight or rustle of the blankets. Wooyoung’s lips still burn from their kiss. A childish brush against his mouth but he can’t stop replaying it in his mind over and over. And when he thinks about yesterday morning, when he dreamed about her and then woke up flushed against her, it all makes his blood rush to his head and a weight settles on the back of his tongue.

When Y/N stops twitching beneath the covers behind him, breath even and shallow, Wooyoung finally follows her into sleep.

December 25th

Wooyoung

Christmas morning brings Bibi through the upstairs hallway with a familiar wooden spoon and small tin pot. Wooyoung hears the first crash slide under the crack beneath his door, an ice bath to his system.

He’s still on the floor, a foot between him and Y/N.

“Get up.” Wooyoung shakes her, not wasting a second as he stands to dive into the still made bed.

She groans in the morning light, eyes crusted as she looks for the disturbance.

Another shrill beat sings through the hall. Much closer to Wooyoung’s door than last time.

“Shit!”

Y/N tackles him into the pillows. Both attempting to look natural as the door rebounds against the wall, a well rested Bibi standing in the doorway.

“RISE AND SHINE!” His grandmother wails, drumming a rhythmless beat and she turns to stalk towards Kyungmin’s room at the end of the hall.

Dual sighs of relief leave their lips, Y/N rising to stalk to the bathroom without looking back.

Y/N

Mrs. Jung’s victory grants her the privilege of opening the first present this morning. Everyone gathers around, matching states of messy hair and bed-wraggled pajamas, to shred shiny wrapping paper at ten in the morning.

Her first gift is the large rectangle box addressed from her sons, all of them failing to stifle their matching laughter as she slowly unwraps the picture frame. You and Mia had helped arrange the picture last time everyone was together for Bibi’s birthday, sneaking out of the house with the excuse of seeing a movie when you drove to the mall for an old school photoshoot at the department store.

Wooyoung’s parents join in the giggling bouncing of the walls as they take in all three boys dressed head to toe in denim, arms wrapped around on another’s waists prom-date style as they stare dead faced at the camera. The cherry on top is their matching bowl cuts, making them resemble a nineties boy band. Another frame slips out of the paper, a similar photo of you and Mia except her chin rests on top of your head, eyes obscured by yellow tinted sunglasses.

“Oh my god,” Mrs. Jung guffaws. “You all are ridiculous.”

Passing the frames around the room, Mrs. Jung takes turns hugging her sons along with you and Mia.

“Oh, my girls. Thank you for putting up with them.” She whispers into your ears, Mia on her left and you on her right.

You refuse to think about how tomorrow you’ll leave their house for the last time as you squeeze her back tightly.

As the youngest, Kyungmin is charged with passing out rounds of presents while Mr. Jung collects the discarded ribbons and paper. Thankfully, bringing a gift for Wooyoung wasn’t an expectation. Why sacrifice sacred luggage space to exchange gifts with someone who lives in your backyard? Mia and Myungho never brought their gifts for one another, and you and Wooyoung followed suit.

But that didn’t stop you from braving the hoards of the city in an effort to last minute Christmas shopping before flying out. Bibi loves the fancy lotion you brought her, and Kyungmin is more than satisfied with the promise of whatever new video he can afford with a Playstation gift card. Wooyoung’s parents leaf through the books you bought in a last ditch effort to provide some sort of parting gift. Myungho screams as he unwraps the mug with “IBS: I be shitting” blasted across the front and Mia opens each tin of specialty tea for a whiff of the herbal scents.

Hours later, surrounded in the disarray of boxes and bows, Mrs. Jung announces it’s time for brunch. Everyone takes turns washing up or teetering upstairs to brush their teeth but she pulls you aside before you have a chance to follow.

“Y/N, we have one last gift for you.” She whispers, removing a small box from behind her back. “I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone just in case but I want you to know how much we all love you.”

You pull out a cardboard box and a thick card.

“To my future Daughter in Law,

There isn’t a single day I don’t thank the stars for how lucky my son is to find someone as incredible as you. He’s a better person because of you and our family is so blessed to have you in it. I was lucky enough to be given three amazing sons but now I’m fortunate enough to have two daughters as well.

Love, Mrs. Jung”

Each word is a new punch to the gut, tears swelling in the corner of tight eyes. Focusing on opening the box in an effort not to break down in the hallway, you unveil a simple silver chain with a knotted pendant. The same you’ve seen Mia and Mrs. Jung wear on special occasions.

“Oh, I can’t—”

“Nope. I won’t hear a word of it! It’s family tradition. Bibi gave me mine, and now I get to give you yours.”

“But I really—”

But Wooyoung’s mom is a force to be reckoned with. Slipping the delicate piece of jewelry out of the box, she slips it around your neck and straightens it before you can stop her. When she’s happy, you fall into her arms in a fierce hug as you weep into her shoulder.

“Oh sweetie,” she coos, patting your back comfortingly; clearly thinking you're overcome with emotion at officially being a part of the family.

You don’t correct her. Why ruin such a heartfelt moment by shattering the illusion now that you're so close to the end? Instead, you take comfort in her embrace, willing the tears to stop with the same principle you use in the hospital: save the crying for the shower.

Stepping out of the hug, you allow her to wipe away the trails of tears marring your cheeks with soft swipes of her thumbs, a soft smile at her tutting over you. Mrs. Jung pulls you into one last bear hug before pushing you upstairs to compose yourself.

Wooyoung stares as you pass him on the stairs, evidently alarmed at the evidence of your crying. But you keep your eyes down as you trudge by.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung can’t help but worry at what happened between presents and breakfast to make Y/N so upset but his mom keeps squeezing her shoulder and Bibi just smiles knowingly in her direction. The new necklace circling her neck is familiar but Wooyoung can’t place why and he hasn’t had the opportunity to ask.

Crowding into the living room as the sun sets, he doesn’t miss the way Mia intertwines Y/N into a fierce squeeze, practically bouncing off the walls with giddiness. He doesn’t have time to ask what it’s about before another movie is starting on the TV to wind down for the evening.

He can feel the tension rolling off her in waves next to him. Muscles locked and leg jittering the same way it did before she had to take her MCAT or open exam results. When the screen fades to black, Y/N is up the stairs and out of sit before he can blink.

Following her up, Wooyoung finds her perched on the edge of his bed, fingers stroking the pendant resting between her collarbones. Shut in the quiet of his room, Wooyoung asks the question that’s buzzed in his veins all day.

“What’s the necklace about?”

“Your mom gave it to me.”

“I thought so.” He nods. “But why was everyone acting weird about it?”

Rather than answer, Y/N hands him a note. Wooyoung recognizes the tight cursive of his mom’s handwriting. Regret trickles down his spine and bubbles over with each word. He’d never meant to be cruel when he asked Y/N to come here but then again he didn’t think about how hard this must have been for her. To secretly say goodbye to his family and their relationship after she was already working through it on her own. He should have known she was bottling it all up, the same way he was prone to.

“I didn’t realize she’d—”

“Why did you break up with me?” She asks, still staring at the floor.

Regret transforms into the shame that’s eaten him alive for months. Wooyoung’s mouth won’t form the truth for what he did so he lies.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!” She bites, glazed eyes blazing as she rounds on him. “Eight years. We dated for eight years and you think you can tell me you don’t know why?”

“We dated for eight years and you didn’t even say anything when I did it! You just left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stay?”

“You just gave up.”

“No, you gave up!” her voice cracks, finger pointing accusingly. “I didn’t even know we were having problems.”

“Boston was always a problem!”

“Which I was already planning to fix.”

Wooyoung recoils from the invisible smack against his face. Is that what she was planning to tell him when he interrupted her?

“What?”

“That night I was trying to tell you I got a job in the city. That I was moving back.”

“You’re joking.”

Shoulder sagging under the weight of their mess, Y/N falls back onto the bed.“It was gonna be my last weekend trip down.”

Sniffles and desperate breaths fill the space. And Wooyoung gathers the courage to tell her the truth.

“I was planning to propose.” He can see her head turn in his peripheral, but he’ll lose the gaul if he sees her face so Wooyoung stares at the wall ahead as he speaks. “I had the ring for a year. And I was gonna ask you but I…” he trails off.

“You what?”

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything. I thought of how much we’d have to change, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to give anything up to be with me.”

“Wooyoung, I never felt like that.” She objects, shaking her head. “I hated Boston. Do you think I was moving back to the city for you?”

“Kind of, I—”

“I have my own life there. I lived there for seven years! I was always planning to move back.”

“Then why were you being so secretive about it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. I knew you’d been stressed and I ddin’t want to add something else to your plate and… because I was worried if I brought it up too soon something would go wrong.”

“I still have it by the way.”

“What?”

“The ring.”

“Why?”

“I think some part of me feels like if I let it go then it’s really over.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to get back together?”

“I didn’t want to break up to begin with.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“Because I’m not good enough for you! I’ve never been good enough and I know you say it's not true but it is. I’m a public school teacher with shit pay and an apartment I can barely afford. That’s all I can offer you and it isn’t close enough to what you deserve.”

“Do you think I’m that shallow?” Y/N fumes, clearly not understanding what Wooyoung meant. “Why do you think you get to decide what's good enough for me?”

“Because someone has too! One day you’re gonna wake up and realize you can have anyone you want.”

“Not anyone.”

Y/N

The suffocating atmosphere of Wooyoung’s room pushes you into the chilly shower stall. In the stifling steam and perfumed bubbles, you quietly let all the emotions of the day run wild; eyes puffy, face swollen, and snot dripping from your nose to be washed away by the boiling streams of water. You hide for as long as possible, shivering as the heated water runs out and frigid ropes blast your skin. Unable to endure anymore of the stinging icicles, you exit the stall red nosed and blue lipped.

Wooyoung sits on the edge of the bed with his back to the door. You watch his shoulder tense, rising closer to his ears as you pad closer to lay down.

You’re too tired to sleep on the floor, too exhausted to fight with him again. So you curl under the covers, body sliding back when Wooyoung joins you.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, tracing his index finger along the knobs of your spine, attempting to comfort you the same way he always had.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

You both stay there in the silent darkness, their breaths and the hum of the heater keeping absolute stillness at bay. The tears you split in the shower followed you to the pillow, running down your cheeks as you try to keep the worst at bay. Wooyoung doesn’t stop tracing shapes between your shoulder blades, the worn cotton of your sleep shirt rubbing against your heated skin. How is the source of your distress the same as the source of your comfort?

Turning to face him, you realize how close he’s moved. Scant inches separate your chests, the heat of his legs licking your own bare ones under the blankets. You spot his own tears, eyes swollen and red, thick lashes clumped together as they fall.

If your love for Wooyoung was an ocean, you’d be lost at sea for years.

He watches you watch him, hands finding one anothers and tangling together. When Wooyoung opens his mouth, pausing as a sniffle breaks free, you surge up to connect your lips.

Startling for only a second, he eagerly kisses you back. Tears and spit gloss your lips as you dip your tongue into his mouth, licking against his teeth before retreating to bruise his lower lip with your own. Wooyoung manages to roll on top of you, pinning you to the mattress as if you plan to up and leave at any second. You respond by crushing your lips together a fraction harder, attempting to communicate the longing and hurt words can’t convey.

The hem of his shirt finds its way between your fingers, moving further up his stomach with each insistent tug. Wooyoung’s own hands busy themselves, one buried in the hairs at the base of your scalp, cradling your head to move you this way and that as he continues exploring your mouth. The other wrinkles the pillow case beside you, muscles rippling as he holds himself over you.

When you wiggle your hips, thighs spreading to cradle him between, he dives to your neck. Blood rushes to the surface as he nips and bruises the delicate skin below your jaw, scorching pants raising goosebumps in its wake. He shudders when your nails scratch down his abdomen, thumb dipping under the band of his pajama pants.

It's been nearly eight months without this. Two months before your breakup, in this very bed while the rest of the house was asleep as Wooyoung laughed into your neck while you drunkenly whined for him to touch you.

As familiar as those memories are, this time is entirely new.

Wooyoung’s thumb, knowing and skilled, brushes across one of your nipples over your shirt, using the rough fabric to his advantage; stiffing it to a tight peak before allowing the weight to settle in his palm. Arching your back, you remove the piece of cloth separating you. Wooyoung barely allows you space to slough it over your head before he’s back on you, latching to the side of your neglected breast as he curls his hips into yours coursley. Your body reacts on nothing but instinct; back arching closer, thighs spreading wider as his knees carry him further down the mattress.

Reverent caresses of his hands lead him to the apex of your thighs, his breath fanning the damp patch of your shorts just before Wooyoung tucks his thumbs into the elastic to nudge them down, breathing deeply as he bares you for his eyes.

A tentative lick up length of your slit pulls a pathetic whimper from the back of your mouth. The flat of his tongue lave against your engorged clit, slow and torturous as Wooyoung indulges in your taste. Rough palms slide beneath the meat of your thighs, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders. A harsh suck against the bundle of nerves locks your muscles tightly around Wooyoung’s head but he takes it in stride as he drops a hand to slip his fingers inside your clenching hole. Curling the pads of his digits upwards, you feel him in your throat as you bite back moans. Your fingers twist in Wooyoung’s inky hair at the delicious torture, hips rocking into his eager mouth as he pants against you; refusing to separate from your drenched center.

When his unoccupied hand slips into your own, a death grip on your entertwined fingers, you fall apart. Your chapped lips nearly bleed from effort to remain quiet, writhing in Wooyoung’s hold as he continues to lap up everything you offer him.

A final suck against your clit has you scrambling to pull his mouth to your own, tasting yourself on his soaked cheeks and tongue.

“Please,” you whisper into his mouth.

Wooyoung responds by kissing you gently, the passion curling your toes while he fists his length before allowing the flared head to nudge your entrance.

Finally presses forward, fitting inside you as he always has, another tear burns down to your face. It all comes rushing forward, never ending waves rolling over you after you’ve been knocked down into the surf. Memories, good and bad, race through you at a breakneck speed. The tingling elation of the night Wooyoung asked you to be his girlfriend, the nerves of when you asked him to move in together during medical school. Sadness when you moved away for residency with the promise to come back. The numbing despair you felt the night you thought would be a turning point in your lives. The straw that breaks the camel's back is Wooyoung's admission that you’re too good for him. Choking your own pain down, you try to hone in on a spot on the ceiling in an effort to stay grounded.

Several seconds pass before Wooyoung notices the fresh bout of sobs, mistaking choked whimpers as whines of pleasure after such a long time apart. His nose traces the tendon of your neck as he cants his hips slowly, one hand still tangled in yours, the other pressing your knee up and around his waist to stretch deeper. When the dig of your nails into his shoulder turns from a sting to a cut, he leans back and realizes his mistake.

Eyes find one another through the distorted haze your sorrows create, his rounded with concern still glazed with evidence of his own tears. Staring at one another in a silence broken by sniffling and staccato breaths, a second set of tears mix with your own as he rests his forehead against yours. Locking your arms around Wooyoung’s broad shoulders and hooking your knees around his back, you try to seal him into your skin.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, voice broken and cracked. “I’m so sorry. I–” he hiccups. “I didn’t–”

What he’s apologizing for is a mystery. Forcing you into this charade? Telling you he was planning to propose? Breaking up with you in the first place?

Perhaps it's all those things. Maybe it's none of them.

“I love you.” He whimpers into your hair, lips branding the words into your skin.

It’s not enough. But for tonight, you’ll let it be.

“I love you, too.” you whisper back, straining to brush the tip of your nose against his own.

Tomorrow, you’ll fly back to the city and hide in your apartment and pretend to be okay. Dive so far into your work that you forget the way Wooyoung has ripped the healing wound on your heart open again.

Tonight, you’ll pretend the missing piece has finally been found and can stay forever.

Tensing your thighs, your locked ankles nudge at the dip of his spine to remind Wooyoung he’s still inside you. He hesitates for a moment but your lips silence his objections, just as eager to indulge in the fantasy as you are.

The pace is bruising, stomachs firmly pressed together as he reaches for the top of the bed frame to provide more leverage. Wooyoung’s back ripples and flexes as he pounds into you, the vibration of his weak moans tickling the sensitive pads of your fingers as they etch down his ribs.

Consumed by an overwhelming need to touch him everywhere, you cradle his face between your palms. Wooyoung flashes his eyes open, as if startled you’re still there, before leaning into one of them. Thumb tracing his lips, he drops a searing kiss to the crease of your knuckle. The tenderness burns the remaining oxygen out of the room.

His next word is so quiet your ears fail to detect them over the slap of your bodies connecting or the squeak of the old bed frame. But Wooyoung’s said them against your skin enough times over the years for you to know the feel of his mouth forming around the sound.

You come with a muted whimper. So worn from tears, pleasure fizzles in your veins like the gentle ripple of the wind through the trees. Clenching around Wooyoung harshly, the tell tale hitch in his breath signals the beginning of his end.

But he is truly done for when you lean up and whisper his words back into his ear, “forever.”

December 26th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes to an empty bed, cold sheets, and the pillowcase squishing his cheek already damp from the tears he shed while sleeping.

December 29th

Wooyoung

A tedious drive to the airport grants Wooyoung ample time to stew in discontent, replaying the events of the past week over and over in his head.

Was he insane to think Y/N wanted him too? All the moments he nearly forgot they’re barely more than strangers after months of silence, how they still fit together so perfectly. Wooyoung knew he’d been a mess after the break up but the past week made him realize how lost he felt without her. Like the ocean without the moon to guide the tide; like he was missing half his heart. How many times had he opened his messages to text her something mundane from his day, just to close them and realize he’d ruined the best thing in his life in a second of weakness? And now having her next to him again, knowing he can’t fix what he did?

“When were you planning to tell us you two broke up?”

“Huh?”

“Wooyoung, I know.”

“How… she told you?”

“Poor thing was crying the entire way to the airport. I told her I wouldn’t let her fly by herself if she was that upset until she explained.”

“What’d she say?”

“That you two broke up a few months ago but you didn’t want to disappoint us.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“You know Y/N, always keeps her cards close to her chest.” His mom looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I made a mistake.”

“If you two weren’t happy then it wasn’t a mistake.”

“But we were happy! She’s the one and I messed it up because I’m not good enough for her.”

“Where is that coming from?”

“I know you and dad wanted me to be an engineer like Myungho, okay? Even Kyungmin wants to be a lawyer! I’m the family disappointment. It only makes sense I’d disappoint Y/N too.”

Wooyoung’s mom is notorious for going under the speed limit, waiting to turn even if the oncoming car is five hundred feet away, and using her blinker religiously. Which is why Wooyoung thinks she’s having a seizure when she veers off the road and onto the shoulder like an F1 driver.

“You are not a disappointment! To me or your father or anyone. You are my son, and I have always been proud of that. I’ve seen you teaching, the way those kids look up to you. You’re doing exactly what you were meant to. And if my worrying has made you feel that way then I am so sorry. I’ll we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy sweetie.”

Crossing his arms, Wooyoung flicks away the beads of moisture tracing down his chin. “You’re my mom, you have to say that.”

“Well I’m not Y/N’s mom but I talk about her the same way.”

“Yeah well she’s a doctor, saving kids lives and all that.”

“You don’t think you do the same thing? Those kids come to school excited to learn because of you. Just because you’re not finding a cure for cancer doesn’t mean your job isn’t important. And Y/N isn’t disappointed with you either. She loves you, Wooyoung. Why don’t you let her decide what she wants?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s too late for that.” Wooyoung mumbles, eyes on the toes of his shoes.

“Maybe you should ask her if she thinks so.”

December 30th

Wooyoung

Rather than give into his impatience, Wooyoung stews on his mom’s advice. And each passing hour conveniences him more and more she’s wrong. Especially when San and Yeosang sit with him in their cramped living room, bottles of beer and empty takeout littering the coffee table.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you.” Wooyoung responds.

San, red faced and tipsy, slaps the leather armrests of the chair before rising.“Fuck you! You broke up with her over nothing and instead of trying to get her back you have a fucking pity party? Grow a pair.”

“She doesn’t want me!”

“Did you ask her?”

“I don’t have to!”

“You’re an idiot.” Yeosang butts in.

Wooyoung knows his hesitation speaks for itself when Yoesang keeps talking.

“You can ask her to pretend you’re still dating but you can’t tell her you wanna get back together?”

“It’s not that easy!”

“Yes it is!” San argues. “You love her right? You care about her?” San doesn’t continue until Wooyoung nods. “Then she has a right to know.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then she says no. Cross that bridge when you get there. You’re already broken up, how much worse can it get?”

Surprisingly, Wooyoung agrees. He sits forward, looking at his roommates before asking.“So what do I do?”

December 31st

Wooyoung

When Wooyoung’s messages go unanswered and his calls fall into the abyss of Y/N’s full voicemail box, pulls out Plan B.

Unfortunately, Plan B has no moral or ethical oppositions to castrating him.

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Lisa, please!” Wooyoung begs into the phone.

“No! Not once but twice I’ve had Y/N crying on my couch because of your dumbass. I’m not letting it happen again!”

“I need to talk to her. Please just help me!”

“What makes this time so different?”

“I—,” Wooyoung freezes. What does make this time different?

He hears Lisa sigh on the other end of the phone, almost as if she’s disappointed. “Just leave her alone, Wooyoung.”

And the line clicks dead.

Walking back into the kitchen from the worst call of his life, Wooyoung spots San’s downcast face while Yeosang watches him from the table; both clearly overhearing his exchange with Y/N’s best friend.

The vinyl table top shakes as Wooyoung drops his forehead down with a bang, groaning in frustration.

“She’s working at NewYork-Presbyterian.” Yeosang mentions, returning to munch on his bowl of cereal.

“What?”

“Y/N works at NewYork-Presbyterian.”

“How do you know that?”

Shrugging, Yeosang takes another bite and swallows before explaining. “She told me she got a job there when she was planning to move back.”

Wooyoung has Yeosang’s shirt in his hands in a flash, nose to nose with his lifelong friend. Never in his life has Wooyoung been so furious with the man before him.

“You knew this whole time?” He bites, his eyes so wide with anger the whites show.

San is at Wooyoung's back, winding his arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him off their other roommate.

“You knew all of this and you didn’t fucking tell me? You’re my friend!” Attempting to shake him off, Wooyoung keeps pressing forward.

Yeosang rises to his feet, hands wrapping around Wooyoung’s wrists and squeezing till the pain forces him to let go. “Yeah, and you’re acting like a real asshole right now!”

“Guys calm down!” San yells, managing to pull Wooyoung back now that he’s no longer attached to Yeosang’s shirt.

“Why didn't you say something?”

“You ended an eight year relationship out of the blue, I wasn’t about to let you get back with her just because you decided being single wasn’t your thing anymore.”

The words slap Wooyoung in the face. Even his own friend’s don’t trust him not to hurt Y/N anymore. “I’m not— I wouldn’t,”

“Come on, Woo. All you could talk about was how excited you were to ask her to marry you and then you come home and tell us you broke up with her. She’s my friend too and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“Because you were desperate enough to call Lisa. If you fuck up again she’ll actually kill you.”

Wooyoung isn’t going to mess up again, not if he can help it. And if he does, he’ll walk straight into the river before Lisa can force him.

But for now, he focuses on getting Y/N to listen to his apology.

January 1st

Y/N

Chief complaint: Father reports patient’s fever and cough have become more severe since previous visit. Reports child is refusing solids but drinking well and taking soft foods such as apple sauce. Sleeping okay.

One of the residents pops her head into your office, “Dr. Y/L/N you have a delivery at the reception desk.”

“Thank you!” You call, not missing a beat as you continue your notes.

Impression: Upper respiratory infection, right otitis media

Plan: Amoxicillin prescribed, five day follow up with p.r.n. at PCP.

Finishing your chart, you rise and head out towards the receptionist desk. A familiar bouquet of blush pink tulips greet you, a silk white ribbon knotted around the dip of the crystal vase. A small envelope is tucked into the spread, sending a terrified jolt through your system.

“I wish I had someone send me flowers as pretty as this!” Jessica sighs, eying the arrangement enviously.

“Yeah,” you laugh, unable to muster an ounce of false humor.

You snatch the bouquet before turning back the direction you came.

Once back into the safety of your office, door shut and blinds drawn, you open the note.

If you don’t want to see me ever again, I’ll let you go. But I can't say enough how every time I ever put my arms around you I felt that I was home. I’ll be waiting at our spot on Saturday. As long as it takes.

–W

You don’t realize you’re crying until the ink of the note begins to bleed.

January 3rd

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is the first customer to enter the cozy coffee shop overlooking the southeast entrance of Tompkins Square Park at nine a.m., claiming the tiny wobbly table off in the corner that provides the perfect view of the door. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. It feels wrong to scroll through his phone as he waits so he snags one of the artsy newspapers sitting on the counter while the surly barista prepares his order.

After an hour, adrenalin maintains the pleasant buzz through Wooyoung’s system, fueled further by espresso on an empty stomach. Each chime of the bell over the door results in awkward eye contact with a stranger that certainly isn’t his ex-girlfriend.

After three hours, his butt is numb and Wooyoung’s abandoned the newspaper he’s memorized. The NYT mini crossword archive isn’t as extensive as he thought.

After six hours, he’s had enough coffee to power a jet plane and his leg jitters aggressively. He’s started people watching through the window, making up stories for passersby entering the park and crossing the street. Half his heart hopes they’re happier than he is, the other half hopes he’s not alone in his misery.

When he’s been at the shop for eleven and a half hours, burned through every source of distraction possible and can describe in vivid detail the features outside the glass wall that separate the inside of the cafe from the sidewalk, Wooyoung accepts that she isn’t coming.

He stays till close, every minute that ticks on a drop in the bucket of regret in his heart. The barista starts stacking chairs, passive aggressively swiping the frayed broom in a ring around his table, so Wooyoung does the sensible thing and waits outside.

The bitter wind wafting through the city finds home in his bones despite his thermals and padded parka. Wooyoung desperately clings to the tiny drop of hope still clinging to his heart. Shaking from the chill and overindulgence in caffeine Wooyoung watches as the clock hits nine.

She isn’t coming.

She doesn’t want him back.

Wooyoung watches a couple laugh in each other's embrace across the street, clambering over one another in amused content. There was time that would have been him and Y/N, high from the intoxicating joy of one another’s presence and the city lights in the winter. Fingers interlocked as they trapeze through crowds, ignoring every other soul in favor of focusing on each other.

Eyes stinging, he turns to head for the train station but nearly shouts as spots the woman in question ten paces away.

Her hair is a mess, nose and cheeks blushing from the cold, breath obscuring her face as it fogs in the cool air. But she’s here, looking every bit unsure as he feels.

“Hi.” He says, dumbfounded.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“I did.”

Wooyoung might faint. His heart is beating a mile a minute, breath shallow and labored. She’s here. She’s here and she’s looking at him like that. And the fear creeps into his pause.

“I’m sorry.” He warbles.

“I know.”

But she can’t so he says it again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

Because he can’t think of anything else. Nine hours of going over the grand speech about how he missed her and how breaking up with her was the greatest regret of his life flies out the window now that she’s in front of him and willing to listen.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“No.”

“Then talk to me, Woo.”

The only thing she’s ever asked him for is the truth. Wooyoung’s been so afraid that if he tells her how he truly feels, she’ll think less of him. That being so in love it terrifies you is disgusting, pathetic.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since they opened.”

“Why?”

“Because if you came I didn’t want to miss you.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“Why did you?”

“Because—,” she pauses, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”

“I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Really?” She smiles apprehensively.

“Yeah, but now that you’re here I don’t remember any of it.”

“Then just tell me the truth, Woo.”

“I’m an idiot.”

Laughing at his outburst, she nods at him. “That’s a start.”

And the space between them grows a little warmer.

“That night at dinner, when I went to the bathroom, I got an email.” Wooyoung starts, stepping closer. “I’d applied for a grad school program and I thought I was gonna get in but … I didn’t. And I think that and the nerves from proposing just caught up to me. I thought you’d want to stay in Boston after all and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to move back here. And it snowballed and all those feelings of not being good enough came back and— When you didn’t say anything, didn’t ask why or try to argue with me I thought it meant it’s what you wanted too.”

Shame flushes through him, a tsunami of disgust for allowing himself to think so poorly of her. Y/N never made him feel less than. The only person in their relationship who thought he wasn’t good enough for her was him and he let that destroy everything in a second of self doubt.

“I tried to convince myself I did you a favor. That you’d be better off without me and you’d meet someone better. Find someone good enough for you. But I was wrong. I am wrong. There hasn't been a single day since we met that I don’t think about you. Even when I try not to, you’re always in the back of my mind. And then I think about how selfish I am for wanting you back. But when it comes to you I’ve always been a little selfish because I love you. And—” he breaths for the first time. “And I don’t know how to be me without you.”

The humor is gone from Y/N’s face. Her beautiful eyes brim with tears, rimmed red not unlike his own; chin shaking. The wind is louder than ever now, cars wheel sloshing across the wet pavement crashing between them.

“Please say something.”

“How do I trust you again?” Her voice cracks, and it knocks the air from Wooyoung’s lungs.

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung looks at the ground, guilt-ridden.

Everything, all of the pain and heartbreak, was his fault. He dug them into this mess and now he doesn’t know how to get them out.

Y/N

Seeing Wooyoung, the man with an answer for everything, admit for once he doesn’t have an elaborate plan in motion to win you back is refreshing. You didn’t want Wooyoung who’d fix everything, Wooyoung who’d carry the burden of your relationship by himself even if it killed him. All you wanted was for him to tell you the truth.

And now that he has, you’re done being apart.

Nearly topping to the ground as you tackle Wooyoung in a fierce hug, you focus on inhaling his cologne and basking in the feel of his body pressed firmly against you. He barely manages to steady your combined weight, feet scrambling to regain his balance on the icy sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever do that shit to me again!” You yell, arms squeezing around his waist.

Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, clearly shocked at the turn of events. Rising out of his chest, you look at his gaping mouth and furrowed brows before his arms knot around your shoulders.

“I missed you.” You whisper into the delicate kiss you land on his lips.

“I love you.” Wooyoung whispers back, forehead resting against your own.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Four months later

Central Park in May is a bustle of people enjoying warm days following months of slushy snow and gray skies. Shrill screams bounce off the trees as children dart across the walkways, giggling groups of friends crowd around blankets on the greening grass, and a menagerie of dogs zigzag around their owners in the fresh air.

Today is a rare day where they both can spend interrupted hours lounging in one another’s presence, eager to make up for years of long distances and the months neither likes to talk about. Wooyoung woke Y/N with innumerable kisses across any sliver of skin his lips could find, basking in the knowledge today he’d finally ask the question hanging from the tip of his tongue since this time last year.

Sprawled across an old throw blanket, skin warming in the afternoon sunshine, a thick book obscures her face from view as Y/N rests her head in his lap. Wooyoung tries not to check his pocket for the millionth time this afternoon, ensuring the little velvet box is still there. He isn’t worried she’ll say no. But the phantom fear from the last time he planned to ask creeps up no matter how many affirmations he silently repeats in his head. But when she looks up at him, crinkled eyes visible just above the edge of the book pages hiding her smile, Wooyoung forgets all his worries.

Plucking the book from her grasp, he carefully marks her place before setting it down beside her hip. Wooyoung folds in half to silence her protesting “hey!” with a kiss, humming when she gives in all too easily.

“I was reading that.” She mumbles as they separate.

“Wow, you’d rather read some smutty book than kiss your real life boyfriend?”

Laughing, she presses another peck to his mouth before answering.“Glad you understand.”

“What about your fiance?”

Y/N smile melts into shock, mouth gaping and staring at him like a deer in headlights.

Wooyoung smoothly maneuvers her up and out of his lap, pulling the jewelry box from his pocket as he kneels on a lone knee.

“Y/N. You’re my favorite person in the world. The only person I can ever imagine spending the rest of my life with. I love when you sing in the shower, and how you put way too much sugar in your coffee. I love how smart you are, and how you’re nice to everyone even if they don’t deserve it, me included. And how everytime I look at you my palms get sweaty and that just thinking about you makes my day better. You are the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Wooyoung is shaking so violently he fumbles the velvet box twice during his speech. He drops it a third time when Y/N tackles him in a fierce hug, tear filled laughter spilling from their lips and into the field where they lay.

“Yes!” She squeals into his neck, “Yes, I’d love to marry you.”

At dinner with all their friends, he subconsciously holds Y/N’s hand so the diamond glints at anyone looking. When Wooyoung walks home, giggly from champagne and love, he kisses her knuckles a ridiculous amount of times just to feel the cool band under his lips. Once inside the doorway of her apartment, Wooyoung crowds Y/N against the door; his thumb focusing on the bevel of the diamond sitting on her ring finger as his other hand pushes the strap of her sundress off her shoulder so his tongue etch her collarbone from dip of her throat where the locket he gave her for their first Christmas together rests to under her ear.

“So, future Mrs. Jung, now that we’re alone, how would you like to celebrate?” He asks, nipping against the sensitive skin she sighs, chest arching into his own.

“What if I wanna keep my last name?”

“Is that what you’re focusing on right now?” Wooyoung asks, a strong thigh moving between her parted legs.

“Yeah, future Mr.Y/L/N. I don’t think there’s anything else to discuss right n—fuck, Youngie.”

Wooyoun can’t help but giggle at her reaction, rocking again just to hear her moan his name once more.

“What were you saying?”

“Don’t,” she huffs, whimpering at another torturous drag. Wooyoung can feel the heat of her cunt through her panties and his jeans. “Don’t be mean to your future wife.”

“Love when you talk dirty.” He bites, teeth raking against the strained muscle raising from the side of her neck.

“That turns you on? Calling me your wife?”

“Feel for yourself.”

“And if I call you my husband?”

Wooyoung doesn’t dignify her question with an answer other than sprinting to the bedroom to demonstrate just how much he likes the new name.

#ateez #ateez smut #wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #ateez fluff #🫡 highvern

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hueningsloverr · 3 months

Text

౨ৎ kiss her you fool !

pairing: established relationship!beomgyu x reader summary: dating beomgyu was rocky, simply because he didn't know how to kiss you. or how to ask. or when. luckily, he had his friends to guide him through it. word count: 1.0k extra: inspired by kids that fly's 'kiss her you fool'! apart of my valentines day series

beomgyu was not one to do things simply because it was asked of him. he 'marched to the beat of his own drum', or so his mom always told him growing up. and while it was his best quality, it was also his fatal flaw.

"no, we haven't kissed yet." he groaned, throwing his head back on his pillow as kai and taehyun laughed at him. it was an embarrassing thing to admit. six months dating, and he still hadn't worked up the courage to ask to kiss you.

he'd never kiss you without asking. his mom had raised him 'right'. and soobin would kill him if he tried.

kai continued snickering, even after beomgyu had practically rocket launched his pillow at the younger teen.

kai of all people was not one to laugh at others romantic endeavours, not with the state of his own love life.

"you gotta just ask man!" taehyun howled, falling back on himself as he clutched his sides, laughing so loudly beomgyu worried his parents would hear.

"you try to have a significant other!" beomgyu shot back, "a partner, who at that, is the prettiest person alive!"

kai's voice held a mocking tone, and then it was taehyuns turn to harass the boy. "it can not be that hard man!" kai giggled, as if he was a teenage girl on the phone. "just be like, hey, your lips and my lips would make an awe- ow! taehyun!"

taehyun grinned, turning his attention back to beomgyu. "the idiot's not wrong. just be polite. she's probably waiting for you to kiss her."

bviously, beomgyu was aware of that fact. he had long since stopped making excuses of his behalf, at this point it was simply a lack of guts. he had the rest of his life to live, so what if he embarrassed himself once in high school?

"don't be afraid dude," kai chimed in, and taehyun had half a mind to tell the teen to shut it. yet, kai was kai. he always made somewhat decent points at the end of the day. "dreams aren't found, they're made."

taehyun cackled, an exasperated, unbelievable, cackle. "shut up man!" he laughed, but beomgyu drowned out his younger two friends. they both were right.

quickly grabbing his phone, he texted you to meet him outside your house in 10 minutes. and with that he set off.

"i'll be back in a bit, you guys can leave whenever you want." he mumbled to his friends as he grabbed his coat and scarf off of his desk chair and sped out the door.

kai and taehyun were left completely clueless, but still giggling like mad men.

a quick walk through the park by your side, you practically freezing the entire way, was all beomgyu needed for a confirmation. he knew in most situations in life, he had endless attempts, yet somehow in that one moment it felt like he only got one chance.

stopping briefly at the steps to your house, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. he had half the mind to check it, but then he noticed you walking away.

"hey," beomgyu called out, his hand loosely reaching to grasp your wrist. it felt like every cliche moment in a movie ever. you always liked watching those movies this time of year. when the snow piled up so high outside it was a surprise school wasn't canceled, and the only thing left to do was watch movies.

"hm?" you grinned, turning back to look at your boyfriend. the streetlamp above gave you an etherial glow, and beomgyu felt his heart stop beating for a moment.

"don't go just yet." he whispered, inching closer. "there's more i want to say - more i want to do."

a soft look of surprise coated your face, and suddenly it was far too hot for it to be the middle of february. "what was it you wanted to say?" you mused, leaning closer to your boyfriend.

he felt his brain shut down.

there was no where to go.

no place to hide.

life presented him with two options, and neither seemed truly appealing. he could either let you go, or ask.

"i really like you," he blurted out, noticing how antsy you had become. you looked as uncomfortable as he felt - how fitting. "and i was wondering, you know, since we've been going out for so long…"

you leaned in again, as if following so closely behind his words you could guess what would come next.

"can i kiss you?"

your words caught him off guard. it wasn't supposed to go down like this - he was supposed to be the one to ask. it was supposed to be his romantic gesture.

beomgyu felt as the heat rushed to his cheeks, and he felt like all his defences had been knocked down. "oh," he managed to let out, eyes wide yet still so soft. all he could do was nod; a hesitant nod that said it all.

'i've been waiting for this'.

and before he could react, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his in a gentle yet determined kiss. his heart skipped a beat as he melted into the embrace, his mind going blank as he lost himself in the moment.

pulling away, beomgyu let out a soft gasp, and he watched in awe as you melted away from his grasp, up the steps, and into the warmth of your home. he could slowly feel the world around him shift back into focus, and the cold breeze began to penetrate his jacket.

it was still february after all.

and so, as he made his way back home, stumbling like an idiot drunk in love, he finally remembered to check his phone. his home screen was littered with notifications - mostly mundane things like a 394 day streak on duolingo to uphold, and pinterest board recommendations - but the most prominent was the oldest.

a simple text from taehyun that read "kiss her you fool!"

authors note: part 3!!! i've yet to have my first kiss... this may be wildly inaccurate. it most likely is. idk. also this is so late oh my god i meant to post it on like tuesday or wednesday but kept rewriting the kiss part😭

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torhues · 2 years

Text

osamu miya.

"what do you think is the right way to ask someone out?" osamu's sudden question draws out your attention from your english assignment.

you take a moment to think, and while he thinks you're sorting out the most appropriate answers to his question, you're lost looking the answer to just one question that's plaguing your mind : should you tell him, or not?

"uh, who is it for?" you settle with the conclusion that he's asking that question out of curiosity. after all, you both are at an age where romance gradually becomes an integral parts of almost everyone's life.

out of all the years that you've known osamu— which is for around seven years for now— there has been only one time when you've seen him pursuing someone, and that was your best friend in middle school; and like the good friend you were, you helped the two of them confess to each other. you would walk to school and back, watching them holding hands, make plans without you because they were dating and it was understandable. you didn't mind, not at all, for you weren't in love with him at that point.

looking back now, you wonder if things would've turned out different if you hadn't helped your friend, or if you had realised your feelings a bit earlier. back then, you found it amusing to watch two people in love act like idiots, not knowing it'd all come back to you with a much larger impact.

"someone i like," he replies in his classic monotonous voice, as if he couldn't care less about not telling you who he has a crush on. it's exactly how it was back in middle school. had it not been for your friend, you wouldn't have known she was the one osamu had been planning to ask out all along. "goes to the same university as us, might even be in your biochem class,"

and your mind traces over the image of every single person in your class, crossing out the names that don't seem to fit osamu's taste in romantic partners. it's not the first time you're doing this. in fact, you've gotten used to figuring out whether he would be interested in someone just by looking at them. it's something you've learnt as you got better at hiding your feelings.

you've known him long enough to know who he might date yet still, couldn't bring yourself to believe that you could possibly have a chance with him.

"well, i can't tell you if i don't know the person," something about you makes osamu believe that you're a cupid. you're good at reading people, welcoming, albeit not so good at reaching out to strangers, but you are likeable, more than likeable, actually.

he has seen you set people up, including himself, and excluding yourself. the reason why you're not interested in pursuing someone anymore is beyond his comprehension. you have your fair share of knowledge about relationships, have dated a couple of guys before giving up altogether. it's not like your relationships didn't work, but it always seemed as if you were better off without them.

even while dating, it looks like your eyes are looking for someone else while being in someone's arms.

he sighs, putting down his phone. "just tell me what you like, people aren't much different after all,"

"uh, well, i hate public confessions and people who confess through calls and texts," which stands true for most the people out there. public confessions are more of a show off and confessing through texts is just, not enough. "also, i like to stay at home or be at some cafe so like, arcades, amusement parks and places like those aren't up to my liking either,"

you notice the smile on his face, along with the dreamy eyes and make him look prettier than he already is. frankly, the idea of osamu doing everything you like to ask someone else out hurts more than it should. you're probably not the only persons with those likes and dislikes. you know you should be happy for him and the person he likes because in the end, osamu is everything you, or anyone, could ask for.

"what about flowers? lilacs?" he asks, getting back to his phone.

"what are you doing, congratulating someone on their graduation?" his lips instantly curve into a frown, and you know in his head, he's snickering about how he is not the best when it comes to picking flowers, and that you shouldn't make fun of him for this. "i'd say tulips, they're a better gifts for first dates and confessions,"

one day, back in first year of university, osamu asked you why you don't seek relationships anymore. thinking about it now, you never gave him an absolute answer.

on some days, the answer would be academics, other days, it would be sadness looming over your shoulders after watching your ex with someone else. sometimes, you would excuse it by saying it's a waste of time and when asked when you're drunk, you'd say it's because you already have someone in mind, someone who can't be yours, no matter how much you try.

on some days, you wonder if osamu ever thinks about all the answers, or excuses, you gave to his question. there are times when the worlds makes compels you to believe that osamu likes you back, but then you realise that if he did, he wouldn't have asked out others all this time. you did drop hints regarding your feelings for him, and he failed to catch on for he for too busy looking at everyone except you.

"i wonder why you don't date anymore," the question arises again, flooding all the memories back into your head.

"i did have someone i liked, but he likes someone else," and you realise you can't lie to him anymore. "so, i gave up," osamu finds it amusing how you say those words with a smile, and he finds it despairing knowing that now, you've simply learnt to live with pain while pretending to be okay.

he shoots you a comforting smile, "i hope that wouldn't be the case for me,"

"me too," and you smile back.

he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket while offering soft apologies for the state your bed is in because of him. sometimes, you feel like there should be a warning for everyone who dates him : caution, this man doesn't know how to keep the bed clean. there are nights when you go to sleep thinking about how you're probably the only one who can keep up with this habit of his, and then wake up realising that it wasn't a problem to anyone it now so, it wouldn't be in future either.

it's like oscillating between the possibility and impossibility of him and you, caressing your little heart with false hope.

"ah, what should i say while confessing?" he shoots another question, making you snicker in annoyance.

"c'mon 'samu, you're not asking someone out for the first time,"

"just tell me,"

and you allow yourself to get lost in thoughts again. for a brief second, you consider telling him to not confess. the reason? your feelings, but again, you and him aren't meant to be together in the first place. it's just like how the saying goes— cupids must not fall in love— and you did the forbidden, knowing it would hurt you ten folds more every time you tie his threads with someone that's not you.

"i don't know, just give the flowers and ask if they'd like to go out with you or something," he chimes a faint thank you before leaving your room, and then your apartment. this time, you don't walk up to the door to see him off, neither do you wish him good luck, and surprisingly, osamu doesn't seem to notice your minute absence either.

it's fine, you tell yourself, one of you has to start getting accustomed to the other's absence. while the process has already begun for you, you hope osamu gets used to it as well. you need him to stop reaching you out for relationship advices because you don't know how long you can compose yourself before shattering once again. you try to distract yourself with essays due next month or even further, reading chapters that haven't been taught in class, reading research papers; just anything that can keep your mind off osamu.

you don't want to think about him, or what he's doing. maybe, he's buying the flowers, making preparations or calling his crush and asking them to meet him at their favourite place. even better if his crush confessed while he has been preparing a proposal of his own, it would be cinematic. you don't want to think about him at all, but the more you try, the deeper he engraves inside your mind.

the evening rolls by with you still sitting at your study desk with a bunch of papers lying around a not one complete work. there are rain splatters on your windows and you hope the off-season showers haven't ruined his confession. you can't wish for the other person to like him back, so you just wish for his happiness; whatever makes him happy, even if it means pushing him away.

and when you manage to drag yourself to the kitchen to grab something to eat and make yourself feel better, the sound of your doorbell hits your ears. the rain hits harder, you muster up the energy to walk up to the door.

there's osamu standing with a love sick smile and slightly wet hair, along with rain splatters on his shirt, and the bouquet of tulips in his hand. "will you go out with me?"

#♡ hues'.#♡ handmade.#this is not angst trust me #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #osamu fluff #osamu headcanons #osamu drabbles #osamu fic #osamu angst #haikyuu angst #miya osamu #haikyuu osamu

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itostea · 11 months

Text

perfect match (shidou x reader)

When news breaks out that your friend’s boyfriend breaks up with her due to his wish for a “mature” woman, you make sure to not to ensure that never happens with your boyfriend.

warnings: established relationship, shidou being dirty again lol, he can’t keep his hands off you, the scene is kinda inspired by the ending scene in loving yamada kun at lv999, image from my reason to die

“I just got dumped.”

“What? That’s impossible! I mean you guys were soooo in love!” One of your friends gasps, a hand clasped over her lips. You feel yourself roll your eyes at the mock surprise, blinking as you watch her comfort your other friend who stared blankly at her lunch.

“He said he wanted a mature woman…” she mumbles quietly. “So he broke up with me and told me he was going to go look for one.”

You sigh, patting her on the back as you smiled in pity. “Don’t believe him. That was probably just an excuse to break up–”

“Oh no!” A voice interrupts you and you watch in wonder as your other friend stares deep in thought. “That actually happened to one of the girls in my class as well. As a matter of fact, that’s quite a trend now!”

“It’s a trend to break up if the woman isn’t mature enough?” You gape, finding her words hard to believe. Then again, you’ve been receiving more news of couple fall outs and failed talking stages. Unexplained motives behind break-ups; tears and uncontrollable sobbing; ending on bad terms. You don’t want to accept such groundless theories regarding these split-ups but they’ve been increasing exponentially ever since last month.

“Yes, one hundred percent!” Your friend chirps. “Reminds me (Name), you have a boyfriend too right? Shidou? Does he want you to be mature as well?”

“Well…” you chuckle awkwardly. Truthfully, “mature” was a reach for your behavior with him. Just an hour ago, you made a stupid deez nuts joke to him because he ate the last of your ice-cream. And a day ago, you walked around in the house with a face mask and in your cringy middle-school shirt–not the most flattering version of you. All of the memories of your time with him come rushing to you and you can’t help but feel sweat drip down your skin.

Believe it or not, you loved Ryusei. A lot. Even if you had to deal with his constant gushing about that Itoshi Sae player and his weird morning routine that required getting naked and yelling, you genuinely wanted to marry this man. You know it’s pointless to think further into the possibility of him breaking up with you, but the surge in break-ups makes you worried–anxious that he seriously could consider it.

“(Name)? You’ve been glaring at the table for a good minute now. Are you okay?”

Your friends watch in surprise as you suddenly stand up, looking at them with a determined expression. You quickly gather your things and slap a couple bills down. “Sorry guys, I have to go! I’ll see you at class!”

“What–? Hey!”

You jolted outside the cafe and sent a text to Shidou, telling him that you were coming home. In a normal situation, you would’ve ignored the fact that he responded with an “ok.” It was rare for him to give you short answer responses but it wasn’t unheard of. Yet, that answer is enough to make you pick up the pace, ignoring the way your heels dug into the side of your foot.

Today is the day where you perfect the “mature” partner act.

“So basically,” you mumble, choosing to ignore the hand on your thigh. “I know that you’re busy with practice and all that stuff so I won’t bother you that much. Also, I want you to start prioritizing your health and–”

A yawn cuts you off from your ramble and you feel your eye twitch in irritation. Even so, you restrain yourself from arguing with him. “Are you listening to me Ryu?”

“Yeah I am babe,” he stretches, manspreading over the couch until you’re left pressed against the corner. The hand on your thigh just moves up to grab your waist and plop you on his lap. You feel your breath hitch but there was no way you were giving in this easily.

You huffed. “Then what’d I say just now?”

“Something ‘bout how you wanted to talk and other stuff.”

“That was at the beginning of our conversation!” You heaved, watching in disbelief as he let out another yawn. “Seriously Ryu?”

“I promise I was listening, sweets. It’s just I got bored once you mentioned the ‘giving me space talk.’ Y’know that stuff bores me.”

“But it’s important!”

“Nah what’s important is this,” he mumbles against your shoulder, shifting so he can grab your foot to observe a fresh bruise forming. In his arms, you can smell your shampoo on him and it makes you giddy inside to know that you guys started sharing each other’s things. He tilts his head to get a better look at it.

“Why’d you wear those, what do you call them? Oh heelies right? Yeah, why'd you wear heelies to a ‘casual’ outing with some friends. You’re not hanging out with other men right babe?”

You roll your eyes from his random fit of jealousy. “They’re called heels and I wore them because it completed the outfit Ryusei. Now back to what I was saying–”

Another yawn cuts you off from continuing. It’s his way of saying that this conversation is meaningless. You sighed and tried to unravel his arms around your waist. “I’m going since you’re not listening to me.”

“Don’t be like that,” his arms tighten around waist and you yelp when he moves you back in his lap. “Not letting you leave ‘til you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong–”

“Uh huh good try,” he says, voice husky against your neck. “Now tell me.”

It’s not easy to dissuade Shidou whenever he’s put his mind to anything. You’ve tried it many times and figured that he’s ten times more stubborn when it comes to you. Just that thought is enough to make you slouch against his chest and sigh. “My friend got dumped.”

“Okay but what’s that gotta do with us?”

“Let me finish,” you slap him lightly on the shoulder, gaining a grin from him. “Anyways, she got dumped because her boyfriend wanted a mature woman. Now before you make fun of me, a lot of couples have been breaking up so I got scared okay? I know I don’t act that mature with you so I was worried you might…” you don’t finish the last part and instead avert your eyes from his pink hues.

“Oh that’s all? That’s a shitty reason.”

“Are you calling my feelings shitty, Ryusei?”

“Not your feelings pretty thing. Breaking up over that reason is shitty. At least for me. I think you’re cute how you are now,” he shrugged, patting your face with a grin.

You still don’t believe him completely, frowning as you turned to look at him. “But…”

He huffs and leans back. “Babe I literally took you on a crawfish date and still fucked you afterwards–”

“Ryu! Oh my god,” you covered your face in your hands. “You’re gross!”

“Yeah but you like it,” he laughs. “Okay, point is, don’t worry your pretty head over shit like that. I don’t act that mature around you either.”

“Well that’s because you’re just weird.”

“You’re just as weird for liking me,” he snickers. “That’s all you wanted to say right? It’s cute that you went out of your way to act like this for your mean boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes as he began to squeeze your cheek. “Please shut up and just hold me.”

“Anything for my girl,” he chuckles, bringing your head closer to his shoulder. Shidou always had the warmest body temperature that you couldn’t help but appreciate. Closing your eyes, you choose to relax against his hold and breathe in the smell of his laundry and shampoo.

And that peace is shattered the moment you hear the sound of a slap and a sting on your ass. Your eye twitches once again. “Ryusei. Why do you always ruin the mood?”

“Babe it was right in front of me! I was resisting the urge for over an hour now!”

You pinch the space in between in your eyes and sigh for the nth time today. Thinking about it now, you two really were a perfect match for one another.

#shidou x reader #shidou ryusei #shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei x you #ryusei #ryusei shidou #ryuusei shidou #fluff #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #shidou x you

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serxinns · 6 months

Text

Who remembers when @thefiery-phoenix made class 1a x scarlet witch reader well I wanna make a part 2 (or my version of it) of it because I LOVE IT and because I want more op readers cause they're hated

Disclaimer: This is a gift for both @thefiery-phoenix and @lady-ashfade CAUSE I LOVE THEM and their fics please go support them

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Yandere class 1a (and some teachers) x scarlet witch reader Headcanons

Class 1a (romantic)

• Your powers are very strong and you knew that you could bend iron, and have chaos magic, telekinesis, Teleportation, energy manipulation, and light manipulation you were so powerful (not as powerful as the big 3 tho) that you got many praises from your elementary and middle school teachers but the other students despise that and called you a witch or a villain despise your past you were gonna keep going and be a hero! With your classmates totally not insanely infatuated with you supporting your goal!

• the class has been obsessed with you ever since day 1 there was always someone walking with you to class, school, and even home, and even when you arrived at home they would always spam text you about your day or did you arrvied safe at home, wanting to spend time with you, you it gets a bit annoying but you didn't mind much or see it wrong with it

• Whenever if it's lunchtime both Bakusquad and Dekusqaud fight over who gets to sit with you and whoever wins in the end both squads glare at each other or one evilly smirks while the other glares at each other

"They should sit with us!" ochako grabbed your hand and tugged you over to their table only to be stopped by Mina "Back off you already had a turn!" Mina glared at her "That's because you're always hogging them *kero*" Tsuyu said with a bit of venom in her voice "Not true!!" Both groups were going at each other arguing you were getting tired of this so you walked over to where Jiro, momo, tokoyami, and Ojiro sat and ate there while the group was busy fighting

"Are you ok dear?" momo asked worriedly while the others looked in concern "Yeah it's just them fighting again and I couldn't take it so im sitting here!" you smiled the group signed dreamily wishing you were theirs, they'll be the one to see that smile "you're always welcomed to eat with us whenever you don't wanna eat with them plus dark shadow always loves your company" tokoyami said while dark shadow was smiling and waving at you "aw guys you're the best!" you beamed unaware that dekusquad and bakusquad were sending a menacing glare at the group your sitting at they did a "we won you lose" smirk

•the class is VERY protective of you if you get a small injury from a villain battle or even a single scratch from a villain everyone is trying to assist you whenever you need something like a drink some more bandages or even carry you to the bathroom they would it's like a competition to them for who cares more for You

•in training your classmates would be pulling you around like a doll arguing about who will be your training partner and at the end of the day it gets so bad that Aizawa, mic, or Midnight had to step in and be your partner while they assign your classmates into their partners they all groan

•When hanging out Dekusquad would always either cuddle with you when it's movie night or a sleepover or whenever you walk beside them their hands are on you whether it be your shoulder, your hand, or even ur waist (if you're comfortable) anywhere for the bakusquad they would always go to trampoline places or arcade games to compete who gets the most tickets and would see who got the best gift for you. They would always flirt with you trying to get a reaction from you whether it be a flustered face or an annoyed glance they'll still be in awe

•Your classmates make sure you don't overwhelm your powers iida makes sure you don't overuse your quirk and tries to observe it Izuku would write down 4-5 pages about your quirk and maybe some unnecessary things about you too he needs to learn more about it he just has to even if it means to sneak in your room for it bakugo would try to make you spare with him and lecture about your skills and quirk and how you should use it safely Kirishima and mina is your hype friend they'll try to hype you up whenever your tryna spare katsuki even try to sneak in a new strategy or 2 but katsuki would always yell at them

•You and Koda have a bond because of animals he likes to about animals he helps you learn about nature and animals and would make flower crowns for you and him. he adores it when a bunch of birds fly on you and starts to nuzzle on your cheek he instantly Dies of cuteness right then and there and swore to always protect you

•You and Sato bonded because of your love for sweets he loves to make all sorts of pastries and if you don't like pastries that's ok he'll search up your favorite food and surprise it for you with a big smile on your face whenever he's baking he always let you be the taste tester he loves how your eyes sparkle and always complimenting his dishes it makes him more confident to bake more and whenever he makes a big batch he always have a leftover portion in a box or bag with a cute bow on top just for you

•Jirou loves to jam with you and makes you hang out in her room if you are a singer or play some type of instrument she will take you somewhere so that the two of you can be alone and y'all can jam out make jokes and talk about your favorite band she would always gift your my melody gifts while you gift her Kuromi merch or plushies you 2 even have matching my melo and kuromi hoodies

•Ojiro would always wants you to touch his tail every time he sees you his tag is wagging like a happy dog! He always wraps his tail around you whenever you cuddle with him or when you walk with him he wraps his tail around you whenever you're out in public ojiro usually hangs out with Tokoyami and Shoji cause they're the only people he trusts around you and he didn't mind he, loves to hold you up in the air or toss you up

•Shoji is like a giant puppy he sees you hurt wraps his arms around you and quickly finds safety whenever one of your classmates tries to check on you or tryna get you out of the fleshy cocoon he "Politely" tells them to back off and uses excuses like "they need rest" or "I'll quickly rush to recover girl (he would sneak you off into his room right after unless u had bad injuries ) needless to say he'll spoil you rotten with his amazing Hands and cuddles

•Tokoyami prefers to be in a quiet place alone with you so whenever you want to study to get your obsessive classmates off your back he would offer you to stay with him just in case you need some quiet time or wanna go to the food court to study tokoyami is a pretty good study/project partner if you get to know him, whenever your in trouble dark shadow would go feral like a wild animal for whoever messes with you tokoyami loves to hang out with you and dark shadow it lights up his world and he won't let anyone take his light

•Hakagure is like a lovesick puppy she would always follow you around ALL THE TIME wanting to talk, talk, talk but you didn't mind it was annoying but tolerated whenever you were asleep or hanging out with your classmates she would always sneak into your dorms and steal your things whether be a headband, your shirt that you never wear, or even a pen (if anyone mentions yuri istg/J 😭) she has a small little shrine for you with a bunch of photos of you, If you love any fashion aesthetic like gyaru, lolita, kawaii core, or even scene you better let her be ur stylist cause if she finds out about your fashion choice her and mina are the MASTERS

•Whever you train them they'll be so spellbound to your fighting and ur quirk heck they'll even hype you up whenever they get the chance cheering for you they love how you'll get so happy but that's cause you to float up to the air (hehe another reference) which they'll panic trying to get you down

•They will never let you go you're the glue that keeps them together (hehe reference)they want you no they NEED you in their life whether you like it or not your theirs

Ua Teachers (platonic)

• Aizawa is the strict but loving type he knows how strong your quirk is and decides to keep his eyes on you he gives you private tutors to try to improve your quirk and studies it he makes sure you get proper rest and if you don't he'll give you detention only for him to get you another sleep bag and fall asleep (the class tried to get detention as well but Aizawa refused) and remember the the class was arguing about who get to be your training partner? Yeah he got insanely jealous and was tired of them treating u like a doll so he pulled u away and threatened them to suspend them if they ever did that again

•dadzawa makes sure ur grades aren't slipping and if you ever had Abusive parents or just bad guardians in general, he's angry now how dare they hurt his favorite student as much he wants to kill them he reminds himself that he's a pro so he can't but he'll do a little blackmail to make your guardians disown you so he can have custody of you nobody is gonna treat you like that and he'll sure of it after all you are his favorite student

•Mic is like the overprotective clingy type he always wants you near him he even assigned your seat at the top so he can see his little witch whenever you try to spare mic always gets you to win just so he can see that smiling face he likes a fun whenever your feeling overwhelmed or using ur quirk too much he quickly stops what he's doing and immediately takes you to recovery girl crying thinking you're gonna die mic is like an uncle or a cool dad to you he always spoils you whenever he gets the chance like giving you breakfast from your favorite fast food place (you never told him our favorite fast food place) he teams up with Aizawa to also learn about this quirk of yours

•Hes so spellbound by your quirk that he always praises you for it he always loves to see how you train and how you work he's extremely protective about ur clothes he doesn't care if ur showing an inch of your stomach or even ya knee caps anywhere above your knees is off limits unless your wearing tights other then that it'd a no-no for him he doesn't wants those filthy perverts look at his listener or they will be consequences~

•Midnight is like ur aunty or ur momma she would always take you out shopping making you wear the most fashionable clothes or take you to cute little cafes she calls it mother-daughter/son/child dates after school she would never whip you with her whip she can stand her little moonbea (hehe another reference) getting hurt she whenever your bad or fall asleep in her class she gives you detection only for you to get a free cuddle session with midnight (and to piss off aizawa)

•Midnight is also very worried about ur quirk what if your quirk hurts you what happens if you use it too much that you'll die? She gets all these thoughts that make her almost cry so she lets you skip out training a bit but aizawa and Mic would yell at her to stop but she has tricks on her sleeve

More characters I wanted to make a hc of but is too lazy

Hawks would be a big brother type of yandere

Nezu is ur rich uncle

Fatgum would be the fun uncle

Vlad king would be your strict uncle

Mount Lady would be ur cool aunty

All might is your favorite grandpa

And endeavor just wanna go home

#yandere bnha #yandere class 1a #YandereUA #Yandere dekusquad #yandere bakusquad #tw stalking #tw obsessive behavior #yanderemha x reader #readerstories

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for requesting my boyfriend to be more affectionate with me?

(🪴 for identification)

I'll try to keep this as brief as I possibly can. I (25F) have been living with my partner of 5 years (26M) for around 1 entire year. We share the rent of the apartment and prices of anything else the house needs, but otherwise we buy whatever we need ourselves.

I am in my second year of college while he's on his third. Our relationship never had many issues as we always were good at communicating and never tried to let issues get to us, but in recent months things have been getting harder for me to deal with.

Our rule was to usually keep saturdays free from work and studying to spend time with each other. This might sound dumb to some people, but judging as we both have to study and work during week days and I am a sensitive person I always found it necessary to have a day we can just stay with one another. He knows the importance of this for me as he was there with me during my bpd diagnosis and is also fully aware of how badly one of my exes fucked me up, so for all those past years in our relationship he was always loving and attentive to me, something which me and any of my friends can attest to.

However, in recent weeks (I'd say since around the middle of january?) he's been clearly avoiding me. I've tried to talk to him about whatever may be happening and he just said he's been focusing on studying for uni which is fully understandable and good! However, last week I asked him if we could spend this saturday (feb 24) together since I've been heavily missing him and he's possibly aware of that as he's mentioned my current behavior is off from my usual. (I almost told him he's the same, but I held off)

To my request, he replied he can't since he already promised a mutual friend of ours he'd be going to help him with something, to which I asked if I could join them! Again, it's a mutual friend so I didn't feel anything was wrong with that, but apparently I was intruding into his life and should let him have some time for himself.

Here is where I might be the asshole. After him acting cold to me for weeks and using the excuse that "he was busy, of course he can't be all warm and kind to me when he's stressed" (which mentally I called bullshit as I was doing the same things as him plus volunteering at the nearby school to help the kids and still kept trying to be affectionate), I snapped and said that if I'm his girlfriend, he should at least give me some affection and love (in a slightly louder tone of voice). I know anger issues have been a constant ever since before my diagnosis, but I've been keeping them somewhat under control since I began therapy, so I didn't break anything or hurt either of us, but I know my anger always scared him. He got defensive and said he loves me but is just busy and can't act affectionately towards me when he's constantly stressed, to which I replied that well, so am I but it didn't stop me from continuing to put effort into our relationship. After getting the cold shoulder from him for all those weeks I finally cried and locked myself into my room afterwards, packing to stay with my closest friend after I texted her if I could stay for a bit.

I'm currently with her and she's been making sure I'm comfortable and alright, trying to make time for us to watch things together or simply talk while I'm here so I don't feel so lonely. He has been texting me from a variety of things such as apologies to him trying to justify he was busy and stressed so of course he'd act cold to me. I've been replying to him, but after he called me overdramatic in one of the texts I've come back to ignoring him.

I don't want to throw out all our years together like this, but I still feel hurt and ignored by him from those weeks. I know we will have to talk sooner or later but currently I'm still scared of doing so.

So, am I the asshole for asking my partner to give me some attention? This isn't the first time this has happened, but definitely the first one it went this far and I feel that it's fully on me, for context.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 months

Text

Cupid's Little Helper - Keys

I walked into the office, unfazed by the hearts and the cupids everywhere. Valentine's Day at a company like Soonami was a lot like Valentine's Day at an elementary school. Everyone wore pink and red and brought little valentines for everyone. There was also a huge party that started at 2 and didn't end until people went home.

Soonami takes holidays very seriously.

I laughed when I saw the look on Keys' face. I walked over and leaned on his cubicle.

"Why is my favorite coder so pouty?" I teased. I was one of the only people at our company who knew what Keys was actually good at. I often went to him for help fixing a coding issue.

"I'm fine," he said shifting in his seat.

"Keys," I elongated as I pulled a chair over and sat next to him. "Spill it."

"There's nothing to spill," he said very unsuccessfully. He turned back to his computer to look distracted.

"Is it Valentine's Day?" I suggested. "It's just a stupid holiday."

"A holiday that makes you feel like shit for not having anyone," he mumbled.

"You know," I started carefully, "it could also be seen as a great day for you to confess your feelings."

"My feelings?" He asked as his head snapped toward me.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "It's kinda obvious."

"Is it?" He asked, his voice dropping.

"Little bit," I teased. "You come into work already distracted. And every time you get a text, you jump. Is it that one girl? Your old partner?"

"Millie? You think she's the one. . ."

"Of course. I mean, who else could it be?"

I didn't give him a chance to answer me. I turned on my heels and headed to my desk. I sat down and instantly started going through the complaints Keys went through yesterday.

Before I knew it, the Valentine's Day party was in full swing. I ignored it and continued fixing the problem I'd spent the last three hours trying to get rid of. I continued ignoring my surroundings when someone knocked on my desk.

"Come on, Y/N," Keys chuckled. "The party started an hour ago."

"I'm aware," I said with little to no emotion.

"Y/N," he sighed. I pouted when my chair was dragged away from my desk.

"Keys!" I pouted. I spun around and crossed my arms over my chest. "I was still working on that complaint that you sent me. . ."

"I know. I know. I know," he chuckled. "You never stop working, but it's the Valentine's Day party."

"I thought you hated Valentine's Day," I chuckled as I stood up and walked over to the drink table.

"I do," Keys said as he followed me. "Doesn't mean I can't appreciate a party."

A little while later, I wasn't sure where Keys had disappeared. I made myself not care and focused on talking to some of the girls from the graphic design department.

I was in the middle of getting myself a drink when someone walked up to me. My heart felt weird when I turned around and realized it was Mouser instead of Keys.

"You know," he said, overly confident, "your nickname should be Smooth. . ."

"Don't finish that sentence," I cut him off. "Mouser, how many times have you asked me out?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn't give him the chance. "And how many times have I rejected you? So add up those and use that number to help you figure out whether or not you should continue to ask me out."

I started to walk away but he grabbed my wrist. "Come on, Y/N," Mouser scoffed. "All I'm asking you for is one dance."

"I don't really feel like having you grope me to a Rhianna song," I said, trying to tear my hand out of his hold.

"But Y/N. . ."

"Hey, baby," I gasped when Keys wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my cheek.

"Are you guys. . ." Mouser didn't finish his question.

"Yeah," Keys cut him off. "And you are still holding onto her."

Mouser jumped when Keys ripped his hand off my wrist. My heart felt weird again as Keys let go of me and slowly moved me behind him.

"You really need to work on understanding the word, 'no', Mouser. You hear it enough," Keys said.

"I didn't know. . ." Mouser stuttered.

"Walk away, Mouser. Now."

I held my breath, not letting out a sigh of relief until Mouser walked away. The second he was gone, Keys turned toward me.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said, my voice weirdly quiet. "Thank you, Keys. You didn't. . . You didn't have to do that."

"Of course I did," he shrugged. "What kind of guy would I be if I let Mouser hit on you?"

Awkward tension suddenly fell between us. I nervously started ringing my neck as Keys opened and closed his mouth.

"I should. . ." I started.

"I'm sorry," Keys laughed awkwardly. "I shouldn't have kissed you. I just. . . I saw Mouser not leaving you alone and then he grabbed you. . . I just thought. . . Maybe kissing you wasn't the right route."

"I think it was," I cut him off. That tension thickened even more between us.

"You do?" He stuttered.

"Yeah," I said, my voice dropping. "I mean. . . It worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Keys chuckled. "It worked."

I cleared my throat as I added, "You better stay by my side the rest of the party. Just in case, you know, in case Mouser sees me."

"He should think that we're together," Keys said, catching on.

After that, we hung out the rest of the night. The more we did, the harder it was to get rid of the weird feeling in my heart. Around nine o'clock, the party was finally starting to wind down.

"Well," I sighed. "I think I'm gonna head home. We still have work tomorrow."

We stared at each other for a minute before I finally broke the contest. I looked away and pretended to check my watch.

"Thanks again, Keys," I whispered. I sent him a smile before beginning to walk away. I didn't get very far away. I gasped when my elbow was grabbed and I was quickly spun around.

The second I was facing whoever grabbed me, they leaned down and smashed their lips onto mine. When I realized it was Keys, I closed my eyes and started kissing him back. The second I kissed him back, neither one of us held back anymore.

"Keys," I gasped when we broke the kiss.

"I'm sorry," he quickly started to explain. "The truth is, I have a really big crush on you, Y/N. I have for a really long time. And when I saw Mouser hitting on you. . . It was stupid. I know that. I guess you could say I got swept up in all the hearts and cupids and the party and. . ."

I cut him off by grabbing his face and pressing my lips back to his. He let out a small chuckle as he instantly started kissing me back. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer.

This time, Keys broke the kiss. When he did, he leaned back and looked deeply into my eyes.

"I know it's Valentine's Day and kinda late," he said, his voice soft, "but would you like to get a drink? Or maybe go to dinner sometime?"

"I'd love to," I said, my face burning. Keys smiled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my face.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Y/N."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Keys."

#keys imagine #walter keys mckeys #joe keery #joe keery imagines #free guy #free guy imagine #valentine's day

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littleheartbigbrain · 7 months

Text

Genshin men as things that guys at my high school have done pt3

Childe, Kazuha, Kaeya, Itto

Childe- The east european exchange partner of your classmate. He was supposed to stay one week. Not enough to fall in love right? Wrong. He was talking with his friends, looked at you for 8 seconds, and turned to his friends and said " I just saw the most beautiful girl". He then told Lumine who then told her exchange partner who was your friend, and that's how you knew.Like every girl you obviously had a crush on him so you tried a relationship. Sadly you were forced to separate after the week, and long distance didn't last long.

Kazuha- your first crush in the class. At an event for the high school you were invited in back in middle school, you saw a boy, a very beautiful one at that, walking around alone. He had snowy white hair and looked...majestic. You were totally lovestruck at the first sight but eventually forgot about him because what were the odds of seeing him again? The odds were high apparently because not only was he in your class with the same schedule as you, but he was sat next to you in French class. You thanked the gods for your similar last name and stared at him all the time period of the lesson. You eventually became his friend and realized just how much weirder he was now that you guys are close. He's way funnier yes, but less attractive. You lost your feelings for him, but why is it that he's always touching you and around you? You've yet to figure that out.

Kaeya- Kazuha's best friend. They share a room at the boarding school so you figure it's normal for them to get close, although they are really a peculiar pair. Since you became friends with kazuha, it was only natural you'd become friends with his best friend, right? Yes indeed, but it was not natural that he'd start teasing you, sitting next to you in all classes, running to you during school projects, calling you for hours for a week and then nothing. You didn't know what you did wrong, he never wanted to tell you. He eventually stopped avoiding you but you now keep a security distance from him, just to not be hurt again.

Itto- the ex boyfriend. Your boyfriend back in middle school who broke up with you after you got the news that you guys were going to a different high school. You eventually moved on because he was kind of an idiot and you were glad you had some peace of mind for once in a long time. But one time he added you on social medias and you accepted, and then everything went downhill. He was texting you non stop, "accidentally" bumping into you while coming home from school while he lives in the opposite area as yours, saying non-stop that he's so much better than any other guy you could find. One time he was insisting on talking about you guys' breakup and you cried a little, he took a step closer, but you took a step back. You didn't want to be hurt again by him.

Note- kazuha and I are both in ib in a class mixed with regular students so we share every class. Childe and I are now friends and itto stopped annoying me. Kaeya sometimes refers to the week where we were friends but nahhhhh I am not falling into your trap again. Also Childe is smoking hot.

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yourfavoritewriter69 · 1 year

Text

Unhealthy Obsession

a/n hi everyone I think this chapter will be more intriguing than the first one but other than that I hope you enjoy chapter two also again i apologize there are any grammar mistakes lmaoo okayyy enjoyyyyy :)

part one

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Tw: sexual content, kissing

and adult language if there is anything else lemme know :))

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Part two: I need you

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It was the next morning you had gotten all ready for your first day at a new school. You received a text from Kirby saying she was five minutes away. You looked in the mirror once more before grabbing your bag, phone, and keys and heading out the door your aunt Luna said

“have a wonderful day at school honey text me if you need any” she smiles at you “Thank you Luna I love you” she replies “I love you too sweetheart also don't worry ill lock it behind you” She gestures to the door.

You walked outside and see Kirby sitting in her car waiting for you. You walk over and get in the car smiling at Kirby. “hi y/n how are you? are you ready for your first day?” she says in an enthusiastic tone. You reply “I'm ready just very nervous” You get in the car and buckle your seat belt. “I completely get that but I've got you Don't worry I’ll introduce you to some of my friends and you can sit with me at lunch if you would like” You smiled and just processed what she said for a second hoping she would introduce you to Charlie.

You apologize for getting lost in thought and say “Thank you Kirby it's nice to know I'm not alone I think today is gonna go well hopefully” You guys just made small talk the rest of the ride. Once you got there you and Kirby were a little early so there weren't too many people she showed you to the office so you could pick up your schedule and while she was walking you to your first-period class you were reading the paper while walking and you bump into someone and drop your paper and phone.

You bent down to grab your stuff and before you, you even have time to be upset you hear a voice say “Oh my god I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going” You look up to see a curly-haired boy with big blue eyes looking at you apologetically.

You smiled and reassured him it was okay. Kirby looked at Charlie and told him to watch where he was going and not to freakin take you out literally within the first few minutes of you being here. You look at Kirby and then Charlie almost waiting for an introduction. Kirby caught on and said “Oh yeah my bad this is Y/n she just moved back to Woodsboro” She smiled “and y/n this is charlie walker you know the boy we were talking about yesterday”

You felt your cheeks start to get hot and turned pink in embarrassment. Charlie speaks up and reaches his hand out “It's good to meet you y/n” You reached your hand out to shake his and say “It's good to meet you, Charlie”.

“so what class do you have a first period” “Biology how about you?” “omg me too what room number?” you responded “Uhh room 609” Kirby butted in “Hey y/n I gotta get to my first period I’ll see you at lunch okay? and charlie why don't u offer to walk her to class him?” she said it in a kinda bitchy smart ass way but it made u laugh. he said “well y/n can I walk you to class” he gave a nervous smile “I would like that thank you charlie”

He showed you to room 609. You guys walk in to only see the teacher sitting at his desk he looks up and gives you a friendly smile “You must new your y/n, right?” you said yes. And told him it was good to meet him.

You asked if there was any schoolwork you had to catch up on since it was your first day and everything and it was the middle of the semester “No I don’t think there’s anything that you have to do we got you covered and if it’s all right with you, I’m gonna make charlie you are the partner for this rest of semester” you smiled “that would be great” you look over and make eye contact with charlie. You both smiled.

The rest of the day flew by at lunch you sat with Kirby and a girl named Jill. It was now the last period of the day and Kirby and Charlie both had the same class it was English.

You were sitting in the back of the class with both Kirby and Charlie, whispering to each other giggling, but try not to cost too much of a scene by the end of the class you and Kirby couldn’t stop laughing you almost pissed her pants the bell rang. You grabbed your stuff instead up.

Kirby offered to walk you out when Charlie talk to you on the shoulder and said “Would you wanna go to the cinema club meeting you don’t have to join the club, but what do you wanna at least go to one to see if you’d like it?” you smiled at him you wanted too but you were so tired and wanted to go home you responded to him.

“I would love to Charlie but I really wanna go home” his face turned to disappointment and he said “Oh okay it's okay I understand maybe another day” You felt kinda bad “Okay maybe I can go what time does it end and ill go under one condition..”

“And what is that?” he said curiously “You have to drive me home after” He agreed and you guys started walking to the cinema club. Your hands brushed together while walking and he nervously pulled his hand away. you look at him and admire his beautiful face thinking how cute he is when he is nervous.

He looks over and down at you “What?” he asks “Nothing you just have really beautiful eyes” You smile while he starts to blush “T-thank you y/n” he stuttered because you made him all flustered You guys made it to the classroom and walked in to only see his best friend Robbie. Charlie had told you a little bit about him and the weird glasses he wore that had a camera live-streaming everything. Robbie looked over smiled and said “My omg you must be y/n im so happy you could make it”

oh my god. Robbie knew who you were and he was glad you made it bro. That means Charlie has been talking about you. “oh yeah of course I'm glad I was able to come too Charlie invited me” you say with a smile. you look over at Charlie who is lightly blushing and you guys make eye contact in that moment you wanted to kiss him you looked at his lips and then back up to his eyes. it was that feeling you felt when you first saw him. it felt like the stop had slowed. As soon as you felt as if the moment was over Charlie cleared his throat.

The rest of the meeting went go you just talked about the stab movies and all their theories now. as Charlie had promised before he was gonna give you a ride home. You and Charlie walked out of the school side by side. You guys made it to his car and with your back to the car and him reaching to grab the handle of the door he almost had you pinned there.

your heart rate speed up as did your breathing. you were so close to him that he looked and your lips and at that moment you needed him. He moved closer to you causing your breath to hitch you leaned in and he did the same before your lips touched he asked if he could kiss you. “yes Charlie please I need you”

Not a second later he kissed you and the kiss got more intense your breathing was heavy and he pulled away and said “I need to take you home” You whined pleading with him to kiss you again because you didn't want this moment to end.

#rory culkin #charlie walker #i need him #long hair boys #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker smut #husband #on my knees rn #rory culkin is so fine #rory is so fine #unhealthy obsession #y/n x charlie walker

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nhl-stories · 1 year

Text

. – Quinn Hughes

Summary: Ignoring the pain of a break up is a lot easier when you're not best friend's with your ex's brother

Author’s Note: A song title being a period is very annoying for writing, prepare for angst below

Word Count: 4.4k

Album Series Masterlist

It's been so hard Ever since you broke my heart But I'll never tell Honey, I'm not doing so well

It’s like a rite of passage to get a crush on your friend’s older sibling. There’s some sort of forbidden love chemical that goes off in your brain and you just can’t help it.

You never expect anything to happen with it, maybe some embarrassing moments of staring or a few ridiculous confessions in a diary, but nothing more.

Lux wishes her crush could have been more aptly named, and the puppy love had been squashed before anything actually happened.

“Can I get into my house and wash the car off of me before you start bothering me,” Lux tries to sidestep Jack who’s sitting on her porch.

After a five-hour drive, the last thing she needs is to deal with a needy Jack. She’s physically exhausted and doesn’t feel like becoming emotionally exhausted on top of it.

“No, you ignored my texts.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” she rolls her eyes.

She tries using her suitcase to box him out and make it to the door, but of course he’s faster than her and grabs her ankle pulling her down onto the porch into a heap. She sits up with a huff, but can’t help but notice how serious Jack looks.

“Are you gonna ignore me all summer? Because you graduate next year and you may never get a summer off again!”

“You can’t expect me to just happily go hang out at the lake all summer.”

“She’s only gonna be there for like two weeks, she has a job to go back to,” he says it like it’s a selling point.

“You know it’s not just about her, but since I can already see you’re not going to stop unless I say yes, I’ll see you in two weeks,” she tries to escape again, but Jack grabs her wrist.

“Luxy, please come to the party this weekend, my mom would love to see you,” she wants to kick him for playing the mom card, “and I’ll even drive you home so you don’t have to spend the night.”

She narrows her eyes, “Yeah right, you’ll get drunk and then I’ll be held captive in the house of testosterone.”

Jack’s eyes dart around because he can’t deny the possibility of that happening.

“Don’t let Quinn ruin our summer fun,” he settles on that dagger.

“Fine,” she caves and Jack does a fist pump in response, “but you have to stay here for dinner because my mom keeps peeking through the curtain and she’ll be pissed if you leave.”

Lux wouldn’t be in the position if she had never befriended Jack in the first place. Or as she usually referred to it, Jack begrudgingly endeared himself to her.

It had started in middle school, when Jack had chosen drama class as his art elective and of course Lux had gotten assigned as his scene partner for the semester. It was the classic partnering of the ‘class disruption’ with the ‘class delight’ in hopes they’d balance each other out.

Jack was loud and brash and loved to rile up Lux, making fun of the way her cheeks would burn red in exasperation. Lux was the quiet girl in class, but one on one she could hold her own with an acid tongue that could easily rattle Jack’s demeanor. Their teacher thought she couldn’t have made a better pair.

The first time Lux went to Hughes’ house to practice lines, she fell in love.

Quinn was only a couple years older but with her tween brain rotting with hormones; Lux thought she was seeing a man for the first time, when she was always surrounded by mere boys.

Lux decided being Jack’s friend was something she needed in her life, if only for the proximity to her new crush. And when Ellen learned Lux was good in science, she recruited her to tutor Jack and the girl became ingrained in the family’s life.

For Lux and Jack their friendship grew to be a nice escape from usual social circles; a comfortable space where there were no expectations to act or talk or think a certain way.

And Lux got the extra benefit of secretly glancing at Quinn. Sure, her mouth turned to sand when he would merely say hi, or her face cherry red when she had even the slightest physical contact with him. Even if was just ruffling her hair in an older brother sort of way. But it all felt worth it for those miniscule interactions.

It was the one thing Jack never made fun of her for, maybe he thought it would fade away over time, like all of his crushes. But it never fully disappeared, even when she dated boys in her own grade, her heart held a special place for Quinn.

And against the odds something happened.

Lux went to Michigan for a college visit and Quinn offered to show her around a little.

“I can even give you a non-parent approved tour,” he had joked.

It was the first time they had spent any time alone, and something just clicked. They laughed at the same jokes, especially at Jack’s expense, talked about their futures even when Quinn’s was clearly more set in stone than Lux’s. By the end of the visit, they didn’t want to stop talking. So, they didn’t.

Texting went from occasionally, to daily. Texting turned to phone calls. Phone calls turned into visits to Quinn’s dorm to hang out and help him study.

Neither made a move for a long time. Lux, because she was worried that she might be reading too much into it. Quinn because she was still in high school and one of Jack’s friends.

Nothing happened until Jack’s graduation party. Jack was preoccupied with his other friends from hockey as they talked about the upcoming draft. And Lux was about to duck out to go to another friend’s party after she finished a piece of cake.

“Congrats valedictorian,” Quinn says, of course, while Lux has a mouthful of cake.

“Congrats on dropping out of college,” she laughs, hoping her wit covers up her nerves.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, I spend too much time with Jack and that means keeping his ego in check.”

“The world thanks you for that,” they both laugh.

There’s a long silence, Lux fills it with finishing her cake before she gathers some courage.

“I was going to head out to another party, want to come with?”

They never made it to the party; they ended up pulling into a parking lot and making out. It was a start of a summer romance, something to enjoy before Quinn went to Vancouver and Lux to Northwestern. It was a bonus making Jack constantly annoyed by their PDA.

The summer ended and they didn’t, a long distant relationship tided over by games in Chicago, spring breaks, and summers off.

Things were great. And then they weren’t. And then they were over.

It’s been months since the breakup, but the wound is still fresh for Lux. Her grades started slipping in the last semester, she began losing weight in the bad kind of way, she stopped going out with her friends as much.

Lux wishes she was doing better. Not to show Quinn, who already had a new girlfriend, up. Rather, to prove to him (or maybe herself) that her world didn’t end when he ended things. Most days it felt like it had.

She checks her rearview mirror for the thousandth time to make sure she looks well-rested and her eyes aren’t puffy and red from crying on the way over.

“You can do this, there will be other people and you don’t have to talk to him more than hello,” she gives herself a pep talk.

After another deep breath she gets out of her car, grabbing her overnight bag because deep down she knows she’ll end up staying.

She lets herself into the house like normal, and is surprised by how quiet it is. She walks further into the house and finds Ellen in the kitchen chopping fruit.

“Lux, it’s so good to see you!” She puts down the knife and engulfs the girl in hug, “I’m glad someone’s here to help keep them out of trouble.”

Lux follows her eyes to where a group of man-children are outside.

“That’s a lot to ask of one person,” she chuckles before meandering around the kitchen island to avoid going outside, “do you need any help?”

Ellen’s eyes soften giving Lux a sad smile before pulling her into another hug.

“I know it’s hard sweetie, but it’s going to be okay,” she squeezes her once more, “and there’s some veggies you can cut.”

Lux can’t help but notice how at home she feels here, she knows where everything is like it’s her own place, which last summer it sort of had been. She had helped the boys move in and decorate and organize.

“How’s school? Your mom tells me you’re taking the MCATs next?”

“I’m taking them, but I don’t know if I want medical school or grad school or what,” she doesn’t mention that her breakup with Quinn has her second guessing every life choice.

“My dad thinks I should take a year off to figure it out."

"That’s not a terrible idea, you work too hard.”

“Luxy!”

“Lukey!” She laughs at the lanky teen and pulls him into a hug, “Do they feed not feed you at college? You’re all bones.”

She thinks she hears Luke mumble under his breath, “I could say the same about you,” but Ellen speaks up before she can dwell.

“He’s like a bottomless pit, we’re banishing him to Jack and Quinn’s cause he’s eating us out of house and home,” Ellen laughs from the counter.

“Good call, they got that NHL money now.”

“Why didn’t you come out and say hi?” Jack calls out when he and the boys start entering the house.

“Because I’m a polite house guest and I'm helping your mom with food,” she stabs the knife in the air to make her point.

Jack comes over and gives her a hug and a spin.

“Glad you actually came,” he whispers as he sets her down.

Some of the other boys from the National program come and give her hugs, they were never close friends but friends by proximity.

The back door opens again and Quinn comes in, hair wet from the lake and leading an equally wet girl by the waist. She knew she would see them but it doesn’t stop her heart from deflating a bit.

Lux can already picture how Quinn picked her up and jumped in the lake with her, then kissing her when they resurfaced until she wasn't mad anymore. Maybe they'd gotten more handsy under the water, until one of the guys called them out and they separated a little flustered but not enough to completely detach.

Lux knows from experience.

She feels a pinch on her side removing her from conjuring her own nightmares, “Lux, I said why didn’t I see you at my last game in Chicago?”

She looks over and blushes, embarrassed she’s been caught, she tries to pull it together before she gets any sad eyes. She’s sick of the pity everyone has been giving her.

“I had finals Z,” she rolls her eyes at Trevor.

Lux knows Z only invites her with hopes she’ll bring a cute friend with her.

“And this goes for all of you stop giving me tickets to Chicago games, I don’t care about hockey or you guys enough to go every time. I barely want to go see Jack and he only plays the Hawks like twice a year.”

She tries to ignore the fact that Quinn is standing by the island now, wrapping a towel around the new girl's shoulders while looking towards Lux.

“What about me? We went to prom together!” Cole says with fake offense.

“You only asked me because I make you look tall!”

She hates how comfortable she feels, laughing with the boys and making fun of them. Then she makes the mistake of making eye contact with Quinn’s new girl.

“Hi we haven’t met, I’m Samantha. I’m Quinn’s girlfriend,” she gives a shy wave.

To everyone’s credit they act remarkably chill about the moment, pretending there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’m Lux.”

“Oh, you’re Jack’s girlfriend, he won’t shut up about you,” she smiles brightly.

Lux and Jack can’t help but let out loud, awkward laughs at the same time. Nothing has ever sounded more ridiculous.

“Jack and Lux no way,” Trevor starts to open his big mouth, “it’s Lux and–“

Lux elbows him in the ribs.

“It’s Lux and me all the way,” he puts an arm around her shoulder, “Or at least it will be when she moves to LA.”

“LA?” Quinn speaks up for the first time.

“I looked at some schools down there, it’s a maybe.”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal but feels a little smug that Quinn is so curious.

“I’m still lobbying for Princeton or Columbia,” Jack says.

“Just what Lux needs, you within driving distance all year round,” Ellen chides her middle son, “Quinn why don’t you start grilling the hamburgers.”

Quinn and Ellen head outside carrying some food supplies. Samantha thinks about staying for a second but everyone else must have a weird fake smile like Lux, because she mirrors the smile before following her boyfriend outside.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Lux pinches Trevor on the shoulder where she can tell a sunburn is coming in.

“Ow fuck!”

“What the hell was that?”

“I wanted to help out, make Quinny jealous,” Lux furrows her brows at him, “It was working for a bit.”

“Did I ask for your help?”

“No, but you looked like you could use a win,” he shrugs.

She looks around at the other guys, they aren’t really making eye contact. She realizes she doesn’t just feel like a pathetic loser, she must look like one too.

She picks up the vegetables she sliced and carries them outside, determined to show them that she’s not broken. Even if that’s not true.

People start trickling in and it starts to become a real party. She mingles with some girls she’s met in previous summers who live in cabins nearby. She even talks to Samantha when she looks a little lost as people start interrogating Quinn about hockey.

In another life Lux and Samantha would be great friends. Lux hates her a little for that. And she drinks a little too much in response.

A haze fills her peripherals, she’s wobbly on her feet but not quite to the level of falling over or getting sick.

“Quinny!” Lux and Samantha say in the same tone when he comes by with a cup of water handing it over to his girlfriend like he used to do for Lux.

“Why didn’t you tell me how great Lux was?” Samantha says a bit too loud and too fast, “I would have made my plans to overlap with her more.”

Quinn awkwardly laughs and raises an eyebrow to Lux.

“What can I say? I’m very lovable. You know that Q,” she feels herself try to wink, but it’s not quite right.

“Luxy come be my pong partner, I need someone to drink for me,” Luke helps the girl out of the chair, he’s not allowed to heavily drink while his parents are around.

“I don’t think she needs to drink more,” Quinn warns.

“That’s none of your business anymore Quinn,” Lux says with a sharper tone than she realizes she’s capable of.

Luke is extra good at pong because he’s practically sober, while their opponents are on par with Lux. Which means there’s not much drinking to be done on Lux’s part. She can feel herself sobering up and she hates it. She hates it even more when she sees Quinn and Samantha making out by the fire pit.

“I don’t feel well,” she mumbles but Luke hears her.

“Want me to take you home?”

She looks over to see Jack didn’t hold up his end of the bargain and is too drunk to drive her home. She’s probably good to drive herself but she thinks she might drive herself into the lake on purpose.

“Um– no. I drove so it will be a whole thing with my car. I’m– I’ll just– I’ll find somewhere to lie down.”

“You can sleep in my room if you want.”

She’s silent for too long thinking about what to do, she should just go home. Ask Ellen for a ride. Anything to get away from here. She could just sleep in her car.

Instead of doing anything she pulls Luke into a hug, he wraps his arms around her. It’s like he’s holding her together.

“Whoa, are you trying to collect Hughes brothers?” Jack says loudly from across the lawn, he’s too drunk to realize it’s not exactly a funny joke.

Everyone knows what he means, Lux whips her head towards Quinn and Samantha. She looks thoroughly clueless, but Quinn is fuming.

Lux runs into the house, she doesn’t care if she cockblocks Jack or makes him sleep on the couch, she takes his room and buries herself under the covers and sobs.

She didn’t prove to anyone that she’s doing well.

The next morning her head hurts and she can’t tell if it’s from drinking or crying too much. Jack is snoring in a makeshift bed he made on the floor, she thinks about kicking him in the ribs on her way out.

No one is up when she makes her getaway.

The next time she goes to the lake house is by accident.

She’s out with some friends from high school who go to Michigan. They start out with brunch and it spirals out of control from there.

They’re out getting pizza, all on wobbly, baby deer legs, and deciding where to go next when her friend Kylie’s fiancé comes to pick her up.

“Refueling for round two?” He laughs at the group and tries to gather Kylie.

“More like round three,” Kylie giggles and tries to plant a kiss and misses leaving a sloppy, wet kiss on his neck.

Lux and her other friends ‘aww’ at that even though it’s definitely not cute and more embarrassing.

“And you’re you sure you guys want to continue on?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Lux gives him a thumbs up.

She isn’t entirely wrong, they make it to the next bar with little issue, though maybe the bartender shouldn’t serve them at this point.

They’re talking about planning Kylie’s bachelorette party in the way drunk girls do, too elaborate to actually be executed.

The conversation switches to their current love lives, which is not exactly the topic Lux wants to broach. At least when it comes to herself. She tries to keep the spotlight off her and that works for the most part, it’s nice to hear about her friends falling in love and their bad hookups.

“What the fuck Lux? I’ve been waiting outside for 10 minutes.”

Jack is standing over the table trying his best to look mad, but having a hard time with the four girls staring up at him in a drunken stupor.

“This a is girls’ night, you’re not invited!” Lux slurs and takes a sip through her straw, going back to her friends.

“You texted me an SOS,” he thinks for a second, “or it seemed like it cause you texted me gibberish followed by your location pin, so I thought you needed rescuing.”

“Well, you can see I’m fine so see you later,” she waves him off and her friends laugh.

“Not happening, I haven’t seen you in weeks and I drove all the way here, you’re coming with me.”

He leans forward to grab her arm only to be assaulted by a chorus of ‘nos,’ so he backs off for a bit, reaching for his wallet and taking out a few bills.

“Next round is on me.”

“She’s all yours Jacky boy,” her friend Ashley winks and grabs the cash.

“Traitor,” Lux sticks out her tongue as Jack helps her out of the booth.

“If a Hughes is gonna take you home, we’re glad it’s him,” Ashley makes a stern face, “tell Q he sucks for us.”

“Quinn doesn’t suck,” Lux says protectively, like he’s hers to protect.

“I’ll happily tell him Ash,” Jack cuts in before anyone picks at that scab anymore, “C’mon Luxy I’ll buy you some pizza.”

She reluctantly goes, blowing kisses to her friends. Jack helps her get into the car and she splays out in her seat.

And that’s how she accidentally ends up at the lake house.

“This isn’t my house?” She mumbles through a mouthful of pizza that she snuck during the drive.

“Obviously, if I have to kidnap you to hang out,so be it.”

Lux rolls her eyes, she’s too hungry and getting too sleepy to argue so she just gets out of the car, carefully because she can’t lose any precious pizza.

“Pizza delivery!” Lux yells out and makes a beeline to the fridge taking out a drink.

“Should you really be drinking more?”

“My knight and shining armor brought me to safety,” she ungracefully rubs a hand across Jack’s face, “so I might as well stay this drunk until I fall asleep.”

Jack jokingly puts a hand on her face and grabs the drink out of her hand, “then let me catch up with you a bit first.”

That’s when Quinn and Luke come into the kitchen, with Jack and Lux awkwardly holding each other’s faces.

“Girls’ night?” Quinn smirks, having been on the other side of that hand many times.

“Oh, I thought Lux was settling for the worst Hughes brother,” Luke laughs and Quinn kicks his shin.

“Lux would be so lucky,” Jack grabs a piece of pizza.

“And there would be a murder-suicide,” Quinn rolls his eyes.

If Lux was sober, she would be able to appreciate the normalcy of this moment.

“Lux can hear you and Lux,” she forgets her point for a moment, ”Lux is drunk and over Hughes brothers. Do the Tkachuks need a new friend? They even have a sister it’d be a better fit.”

“I can put a good word in for you with Brady,” Quinn snickers at the drunken rambling.

Lux grins at him and even through her drunken haze her heart does a little flip, this is what it feels like to be with her Quinn.

“Let’s get you to bed before you really embarrass yourself.”

Jack hooks an arm around her shoulder. Lux is smart enough to know what he’s implying, that’s not her Quinn anymore and she’s inebriated enough to say something she regrets. Jack won’t let that happen on his watch.

“There’s even a guest room with your name on it.”

Jack gives her some clothes to wear and tucks her into her bed.

“I know I’m your favorite Hughes,” he kisses her forehead.

“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone, it’s really embarrassing.”

Lux wakes up an hour later desperately needing to pee, she scrambles out of bed only to realize she’s still heavily under the influence. She tries to wanders the hallway in the dark, pretty sure she’s familiar enough with the layout to find her way.

She’s wrong.

Opening a door she walks into Quinn’s room, who’s just walking out of his ensuite bathroom toweling his hair, naked.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” she slaps a hand over her eyes, “I was looking for the bathroom and this is the one I’ve used the most.”

He lightly chuckles, “it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“That’s true,” she opens a crack between her fingers and peeks through.

“That wasn’t an invitation to look Lux,” he tinges pink before thumbing towards the open door, “bathroom’s free.”

“Oh right, I’ll be a second then out of your hair.”

When she comes back out, Quinn is sitting on his bed, the side that used to be hers. She can feel hot tears boiling in her eyes and tries to make a quick exit.

She trips over nothing, her faculties still not her own, and finds herself flopping her legs out and leaning against his dresser. Admitting defeat and letting herself cry.

“You okay?” Quinn gets up and takes a seat on the floor next to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“For falling down?”

“No for us. I’m sorry I cut you out and didn’t tell you how I felt and was just a shitty girlfriend.”

“You weren’t a shitty girlfriend.”

He wraps an arm around her shoulder, Lux flinches at the contact before relaxing into the familiar warmth.

“I didn’t know what I wanted and I let get in the way of a good thing,” she kicks her legs like a kid having a tantrum.

“You’re 21, unlike the weirdo Hughes brothers it’s pretty normal to not know what you want Lux.”

He gives her a little squeeze, “I also think us not being in the same city or even country for almost our whole relationship didn’t really help either.”

They sit in silence after that, they’ve always been good at reveling in a quiet moment.

But his hand is so warm on her arm and Lux can’t revel, she can’t hope, she can’t pretend that there’s more to this than just Quinn being nice. And that means fighting her drunken thoughts that are telling her to kiss him or tell him she loves him.

“Samantha seems nice.”

“Yeah?” He looks towards her, trying to hold back a smile as they make eye contact for the first time.

“And it’s nice to see you so happy, I like happy Quinn.”

“I like happy Lux; I have a feeling she hasn’t been around much.”

“No,” she squeaks out, trying to keep the dam of tears together, it doesn’t work for long.

“I’m not dealing with the breakup as well as you.”

“It’s okay,” he pulls her into his chest and lets her cry.

“I’m dealing with it a lot better than I thought I would, and I’m the one who broke up with you,” his voice sounds pinched but Lux doesn’t dare look, “and you’re gonna be okay, I’m not that great.”

Lux gives him a little slap at that comment.

“When you do finally figure out what you want, there’s going to be no stopping you.”

Lux pulls back and kisses the corner of his mouth. There’s no romance in it; it’s a goodbye to what they were.

“I wish we could have worked out, but I guess I’m dodging a bullet by not becoming a Hughes,” she lets out a laugh.

“There’s the Lux, I know,” they’re both grinning like idiots.

He gives her hand one last squeeze as she leaves, hands slowly parting until they’re too far away to touch. It doesn’t fix everything, her heart isn’t completely welded back together, but it’s a start.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes story #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks fics #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagines #nhl stories #hockey #hockey fics #hockey imagines

155 notes · View notes

beebotea · 11 months

Text

hey, are you listening? — part 08

pairing : college au!xiao x f!reader . summary : in which uni students decipher vague tweets and emotions... + ie: second-year students y/n and xiao are forced to work through their term project (and feelings) as their friends attempt to meddle with their love lives ‘for the greater good’ . cw : swearing, slut-shaming, suggestive, reader she/her pronouns .

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08. house visit

act 1, scene 1

“My, my, my! Aren’t you up and early today. What, got another date with Xiao again?” Hu Tao walked into the kitchen where Y/N was preparing breakfast for her and her roommates. The brunette teasingly winked at her roommate who’s cheek had started to heat up again.

“Well no… but yes. He invited me over to work today. I can ask if you wanna come.”

“Oh I knew it! There’s absolutely no way you’d wake up so early just to make us breakfast. And I won’t be able to come. I signed up for peer mentoring so I have a meeting later today.”

“C’mon, 10 a.m. isn’t that early.”

“Uh, for you it is! Sometimes you sleep in until 1 p.m. on Fridays…”

“Fine, fine, I surrender,” Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes as she lifted her hands up in surrender. “Do you want to call Yanfei up? The food is almost ready.”

“She’s in the washroom right now I think. Oh man, the food smells so good! You haven’t cooked us breakfast in forever.”

Yanfei joined the two at the table and the three girls chatted away on what’s been happening in their separate classes as of late. Despite always texting the girls and seeing them everyday for dinner, their studies and work often limited the time they had to spend together.

It was more surprising that Y/N was yet to spill the beans on her recent study sessions with the elusive Xiao from their ethics class.

“So, how is he? Have you cracked the shell yet? I haven’t really talked to him much since middle school, but our families keep in touch.” Hu Tao asked, taking a bite out of her food.

“You made him sound so much more intimidating than he actually was.”

“No, Hu Tao’s right. I remember that guy barely talking to anyone all of high school. The only reason why people knew him was because he was pretty…” Yanfei chirped in.

“He seems really nice to me… a gentleman too.”

Hu Tao choked on the juice she had been drinking. “Pfft. What? Xiao? Gentleman?”

“Yeah! He’s really sweet!” Y/N continued to detail the events of her meetings with the dark teal haired boy. From his first acts of chivalry, to how he took care of her at the cafe and even how he nailed her order twice! Her best friends couldn’t seem to bring themselves to believe her, insisting that maybe Xiao hit his head one day and had a whole personality change.

“Or who knows? Maybe his cousin is right and he does feel something for you. But it’s only been a few days so who am I to say?”

—

act 2, scene 1

The door opened to reveal Xiao, wearing a tank top and sweats.

“Hey, come in. Sorry if it’s a bit messy, we’re cleaning up a bit.”

“Oh, hey Y/N! I haven’t seen you since the party! How have you been?” Kazuha called from within the living room. Y/N looked behind Xiao to see the platinum haired boy sweeping, wearing what looked like a cute pink cleaning apron.

“Hey, Kazuha— why are you dressed like that?”

“He’s a little silly like that.” Y/N looks over and spotted Heizou, leaning on the kitchen counter, chuckling as Kazuha side eyed him.

“Heizou, hi!”

Not long after did a fourth voice follow, signaling the entrance of the indigo haired pain-in-the-ass.

“Hope the door didn’t hit you on the way in, Y/N.”

“… nice to see you too bestie— Hey! Don’t touch me!” She yelled as Scaramouche teasingly ruffled her hair.

Xiao swatted away his cousin’s hand and grabbed his project partner by the shoulders to shift her away from the boys protectively.

“I’m done my part for cleaning so she and I will be studying in my room.”

“You mean our room?” Scaramouche chided.

“You’re not allowed in there when she’s here.”

“Hey! I paid for most of this dorm!”

“Please, Scara. It’s a school project.”

“I’ll be quiet and not bother you guys I promise.”

“Fine. Finish cleaning up first.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Scaramouche was shooed away to do his chores by Xiao’s two other roommates as Xiao lead the way to his shared room.

He gave her a small bed-desk for her to put her things on top of while he worked at his own desk.

“I’m not gonna lie, we already got through a lot of the first part of this project and the first check-in isn’t until a week from now. Do you want to just finish everything for the check-in today so we can focus on other things next week?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, staring at their extensive amounts of research and notes that have been compiled into the document from the last few days.

The two powered through the next few hours finalizing the first report of their three-part project. Xiao’s three other roommates occasionally popped in to check on them and bring various cups of water, and teas. In Scaramouche’s case, it was often to bother either of the two and steal a few crackers. In the end, they successfully finished the draft.

“Oh man, my back hurts.” Y/N stretched in her spot as she closed her laptop.

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve swapped seats with you.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I didn’t want to ruin the momentum we had.”

Xiao looked at his clock. 4:49 p.m. “Do you want to see the Pokémon game? How long do you plan on staying?”

“Of course I want to see the game! I can leave whenever so it doesn’t really matter to me. Why? When do you want to kick me out?” Y/N raised her eyebrow teasingly at him.

He let out a chuckle. “You can stay for days if you wanted to and I still wouldn’t mind your company.”

“Ha ha very funny. I’d miss Yanfei and Hu Tao too much of you kept me hostage like that.”

“Do you want to at least stay for dinner? I’m sure the guys won’t mind and I can walk you home after.”

“Sure, why not.”

—

act 2, scene 2

the three friends have been p much attached by the hip since high school

chef scaramouche is canon I promise

xiao (and a few of the other anemo boys) play(s) league. make of that info what you will.

—

taglist —

@ashhh-14 @sanghyuksgasolinestationscream @yuminako @bananasquash @scaramoo @lovely028 @apinu @yukii-1 @ttalgi @yelleloww

—

#[smau — hey are you listening?]#genshin college au #genshin impact x reader #genshin smau #genshin xiao #xiao smau #xiao x reader #xiao #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #genshin impact xiao

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samkiszkasfacialhair · 1 year

Text

Amongst The Stars

Amongst the Stars (The Final Version)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka and Female Reader

Summary: A coming of age story about Jake Kiszka’s first love.

This is a one year anniversary republication of Amongst the Stars. This version includes revisions, edits, new cover art, deleted scenes, extras, and an alternative ending.

Warnings: Mentions and scenes of teenage drinking, marijuana use, sex, sexual situations, sexual acts, oral sex (m. receiving), the word slut, slut shaming, lack of eating and sleeping, vomiting, self hate, mentions of pregnancy.

Word Count: 50k

October 2013, Senior Year of High School:

“Project time!” your English teacher chimed out to the class. Groans and sighs erupted throughout the room. You didn’t mind though. School was school. Besides, English was your best subject. You’d always been relatively smart and once you got the hang of it, analyzing literature came easy to you.

Your teacher explained the concept of the project and then continued with the instructions.

“I’ll make it easier for you guys, I’ll allow you to work in pairs.”

Everyone around the room started looking at each other. You exchanged looks with your best friend. You figured you’d work with her.

“But I’m choosing the pairs,” he said in a somewhat sinister tone.

The groans and sighs from the class continued. You kissed working with your friend goodbye.

He started off on his list of names.

“Jake Kiszka and,” he dragged out the “and” particularly long, “Y/N.”

You knew it.

Jake wasn’t exactly the best student and since you were, it was an obvious pairing. You couldn’t blame your teacher for putting you two together. You looked at your friend from across the room and gave her a little frown. She returned the same face to you.

You’ve known of Jake since you were little. Frankenmuth was a small town so everyone in your high school knew each other. Jake and his brother Josh were on your soccer team when you were seven. Josh was in your fourth grade class. You had a few classes with each of them here and there since middle school, but you never really cared too much about them. Josh was an absolute menace. He was a theater kid who did the morning announcements- pretty weird. Jake was always cooler, a little mysterious even. He had shaggy hair that perfectly covered his forehead and most of his eyes. You thought he was cute but you didn’t really have any reaction to having to work with him. It was what it was.

Class was dismissed and everyone was told to talk to their partners outside of class and have the project ready to present in exactly a week. You and Jake exchanged numbers and texted each other about when and where to meet. The two of you decided that you would go to his house to work on it.

A few days later, Saturday:

Your mom dropped you off at Jake’s house at around 2 and you texted Jake that you were there. You and Jake planned to knock out the entire project in one day. It wouldn’t take long and you knew what you were doing, even if he didn’t.

Jake opened the door and flashed you a smile as he greeted you. You walked into his house. It was cute. Very midwestern. Oak furniture was everywhere and pictures of his family lined the walls. You caught a glance at Jake’s school photos from throughout the years as well as his siblings’.

He led into their dining room, which was attached to the kitchen, and you saw his school supplies sprawled out on the table.

“I share a room with my brothers so it’s probably best to work here,” he began. “But you’ll be happy to know that I actually read the book. Well I read most of it,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and looked down. “The last couple chapters started to confuse me so I just looked up the ending online.”

You could tell he felt bad about not exactly knowing the ending of the book you had a project on. Kind of embarrassed even.

You let out a light laugh, “It’s okay, I made an outline of everything. I’ll explain it to you.”

He exhaled a sigh of relief and smiled.

You both sat down and got to work. You explained the parts he didn’t understand and as you did, he looked right into your eyes and nodded his head as he followed along with your words. Damn he was cute.

As you worked on the project, Jake showed that he understood and put in a lot of unexpected work and ideas. By the time you were done, it was a little after 4 o’clock and you were both satisfied with it. Your mom was set to pick you up closer to 5 so you had some extra time to spare.

“So, now that you taught me something, can I teach you something?” Jake asked, smiling at you secretively.

“Okay what did you have in mind?” You replied as you folded your arms and rested your elbows on the table.

“Follow me.”

He got up with you following behind him and stopped when he got to a door leading out of the kitchen. He looked back at you with his hand gripping the doorknob.

“I don’t know if you know this, but I play guitar. My brothers and I, we kind of have a set up in here. Don’t laugh, okay?” he looked up at you through his hair like a little kid who was about to tell a big secret.

You nodded your head as a silent promise that you wouldn’t laugh. He turned the knob and opened the door, biting his bottom lip nervously. His eyes watched you to see your reaction to his little secret.

It was a garage. But Jake’s family’s garage wasn’t an average garage. This garage was filled with music equipment. The concrete floor was covered in Persian rugs, wires, and extension cords. There were multiple amps, a drum kit, 2 keyboards in the corner, a bass, microphones on stands, and a red guitar that was propped up perfectly in the middle of it all.

The walls were lined with the usual snow shovels, rakes, and tools. There were storage containers and cardboard boxes stacked up in the corners with labels. There was also a couch, TV, and refrigerator too, like it was an extra room in the Kiszka home- an organized mess.

Your jaw dropped in awe. You had never seen anything like it before.

“Woah” you said as he let you walk in front of him. You looked around the room for a minute, silently taking it all in.

You looked back at him as he nervously looked at you, breathing shallow, and playing with the skin around his finger nails.

“Soooo, what do you think?” he finally asked.

“This is really cool. You guys have a band or something?”

“Yeah, kind of. Josh sings, Sam picked up bass last year and he does the piano sometimes. Sam’s friend Danny just started on drums with us- he’s good.”

He picked up the red guitar gently.

“But this. This is my baby. This is what I want to teach you.”

You reached out to touch it, it was smooth but cold from being in a not well heated garage in the middle of a Michigan October. He put his hand over yours as your fingers glided along the neck of the guitar and as he did, you sucked in a breath.

You could feel his eyes on you. You pulled your hand away from the contact and nervously put both your hands in your back pockets. You looked down at the ground as Jake put the guitar back on the stand and knelt down to open a black case.

“Now, before you can play that one, you have to get the basics down. At least that’s what my dad told me.”

He pulled out an acoustic guitar and sat down on the carpet with it in his lap; legs open, bent at the knees. He smiled and motioned with his head for you to sit down with him.

“C’mere you can hold it,” he said.

You sat down in between his legs and he lifted the guitar over your head and onto your lap. He scooted himself closer to you. You felt his warm chest against your back. He grabbed your wrists gently and placed the left one to wrap around the neck with a “One hand here,” and the right one on the side of the body with “and here.”

He placed his chin over your left shoulder, resting it there lightly. You could feel his breath on you. He smelled amazing, a little cologne smell. Not too strong. Just the right amount. Your heart started beating a little quicker as you felt the insides of his thighs lightly touch the outsides of yours.

He reached to the table next to him and grabbed a little black pick and put it between your fingers. Jake took your left hand and moved your fingers where he wanted them to be on the strings. He took your right hand in his hand and moved it with his to strum, letting the sound of a chord fill the room. You looked back at him, smiling.

“Pretty,” you said as you turned your neck around to look at him.

There was a pause before Jake spoke.

“Yeah. Pretty,” he said quietly with his soft raspy voice almost in a whisper, as his eyes darted all over your face.

You turned your head back around, fighting back a smile so that he wouldn’t see. Your heart was fluttering. You had instant butterflies in your stomach. Who would’ve thought Jake Kiszka of all people would be making you feel this way?

You had to admit, you’d always thought he was a little cute but he never seemed to have much going for him in life. Or so you thought.

Jake broke the silence after a few seconds by clearing his throat. “Um, okay so here’s another one.”

He moved your fingers on the neck a little bit to show you another chord.

He continued, “And these two you can go back and forth with easily when you get comfortable with them.”

He guided your fingers in place as you played the two chords. His right hand still held yours to guide the strumming. He let go gradually as he saw you were getting more comfortable with the placements.

He let out a little chuckle, “That’s it. You got it.”

His fingertips just lightly shadowed your hand, barely touching.

With his head resting on your shoulder, you looked back at him again but this time- your face only an inch away from his.

“You want to try on your own?” he asked.

You nodded and he scooted back to give you space to get up. You got up and sat back down across from him. Both of you sat criss-crossed. He placed his elbows on his knees and his hands formed fists under his chin. His guitar rested on your lap and you put your hands and fingers where he showed you. You strummed the first note and looked at him. He was fully smiling with his teeth, waiting for you to do the next one. You went for the second one but your fingers missed a placement, so the chord came out wrong. Both of you let out a little laugh at the wrong note.

“Um,” you said, trying to remember where to put your fingers.

He got up on his knees, moved toward you, and adjusted your fingers to put them in the right place.

“Try now,” he said, pulling his hands away but still kneeling in front of you.

You strummed and it came out perfect after his help.

“Beautiful,” he said.

You look up from the guitar to see him looking at you. His teeth tugged at his bottom lip. Your eyes darted from his eyes, to his lips. They were little but they looked soft. You saw Jake’s eyes dart around your face and stop at your lips for longer than normal.

He looked back at your eyes and asked, “Can I… Can I kiss you right now?”

His eyes turned soft and you could tell he was nervous by the way his breathing was hitching.

You nodded your head and started to lean into him. He did the same and closed the gap between the two of you. The kiss was slow and soft but over way too soon.

You both opened your eyes and pulled away, searching for something to say or do to make this less awkward. He looked down and smiled to himself and then he looked back at you.

“Um-“ he started to say.

“Do it again,” you whispered.

Jake breathed out and took your chin in his hand. He pushed it up just a little and connected again. This kiss was longer, but still as soft as the first one. You both began to deepen the kiss- going for more of each other. His lips were warm and wet. His lips moved perfectly with yours and sucked you in. He moved his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer.

All of a sudden the garage door swung open and your eyes met a younger boy standing in the doorway.

“Jake! Mom said dinner is rea- oh shit,” his eyes were wide and he started to close the door, leaving quickly. “Shit, I’m sorry!”

Jake breathed out heavily and pulled away from you. His face turned a shade of pink as his hands dropped to his sides.

“That’s my little brother, Sam,” he explained as he got up from the floor.

He reached for the guitar and you handed it to him. He put it back in the case and buckled it shut. Jake extended a hand and pulled you up to your feet.

“Sorry about him. I don’t think anyone really knows you’re here,” he said, tucking his lips into his mouth as his cheeks returned to their normal color.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” he asked, “my mom wouldn’t mind.”

You looked at your phone, “Thanks but it’s okay- it’s 5 o’clock. My mom will be here any minute.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Jake said as he started to lead you back inside the house.

As you entered the kitchen again, you saw the entire Kiszka family in the kitchen and dining room, all fixing and situating themselves for their family dinner.

“Uh you guys this is Y/N. We had a project for school,” Jake spoke, loudly, so they could all hear him over their conversations. They all stopped what they were doing to greet you. Josh waved at you, remembering you from his classes throughout the years.

“What kind of project?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively and smiling.

“Shut up,” Jake replied sternly as his eyes shot daggers at Sam, silently letting him know he shouldn’t elaborate.

“Do you want to stay for dinner, Sweetie?” his mom asked as she placed a bowl of pasta on the table.

“Thank you but my mom is here. Smells really good though!” you replied as you followed Jake towards the front door.

“Nice to meet you!” Sam called out and let out a cackle as Jake opened the front door and closed it behind the two of you.

It was dark outside, just past sunset. You saw your mom’s headlights in front of his house through the trees and bushes.

“So, I’ll see you at school then?” Jake asked as he rocked back and forth on his toes with his hands in his front pockets.

“Yeah, just don’t forget to bring the project file on Monday,” you said.

“I won’t. Thanks for helping me with it.”

“It’s not like I had a choice,” you laughed, “thanks for teaching me guitar.”

“Yeah,” he began, a slight smirk appeared on his face, “and I’ll talk to Sam. You know, tell him not to say anything.”

“It’s okay. It’ll happen to him one day.”

You both laughed and he pulled you in for a hug. The warmth of his body heated you up instantly. He pressed his lips to your cheek softly. You pulled back from the hug, looked at him, and smiled.

“See you Monday,” you said as you walked down the driveway.

He waited for you to get in the car before he headed back inside. He turned around and smiled to himself while also getting ready to kill Sam.

November 2013:

A month had passed since the kiss. You and Jake have talked a bit here and there- mostly through texts. You would pass each other in the hallways with smiles and waves. Whenever his name popped up on your phone screen, you got butterflies.

You liked him and you knew it. But you wouldn’t ever admit it. Besides, girls always liked Jake. You were probably nothing but a number to him.

You were working on homework one Friday night when you got a text from him.

5:47 pm: My parents and siblings just went out. Wanna come over?

Your heart skipped a beat. Every time he texted you, it was a casual, friendly message. But this seemed different. This seemed like an invitation for something else. It made you nervous.

5:50 pm: Sure :)

That was all you could even think to say. You didn’t want to question him or have any other potential reply come off weird. Sure, this whole thing with Jake made you nervous, but you were also excited.

5:50 pm: I can come pick you up if you want.

5:51 pm: Okay, see you soon.

You sent Jake your address and in 15 minutes, the headlights of a white Jeep shone through the darkness of the night.

You told your mom you were going out with a friend and she was surprisingly okay with that. You walked over to the car and he reached over to open the door from the inside.

“You have your license?” you asked as you hopped inside.

“No. But I have a permit and a pretty girl in the passenger seat right now so as long as you don’t tell, I won’t,” he said with a smirk on his face.

You bit your lip and you looked down at your hands in your lap as he started the drive back to his house.

As he reached the first red light, he looked over at you. You didn’t look back but you felt his eyes on you and you could see a small smile that he was trying to hold back appear on his lips out of the corner of your eye. You looked over at him and met his gaze. The stoplight illuminated his face and casted shadows over his nose and his tired, sunken in eyes. He was beautiful. His features were just a little more feminine than Josh’s, but also manly at the same time. He balanced the two perfectly.

“You look really nice tonight,” he said quietly.

You smiled at him and whispered, “Thanks.”

The light turned green and he turned his attention back to the road to continue driving. Occasionally, you caught him looking over to you to catch a glimpse.

“Well, you look nice all the time. But tonight especially,” he corrected himself.

Instantly you felt your stomach flip at his words. Something about him complimenting you brought you back to that moment in his garage last month. It was how his words were just a bit hesitant and how his voice was just above a whisper. It reminded you that you were in fact going back to his house with him now. Alone.

“You look really nice tonight, too,” you replied.

“I try,” he replied jokingly.

He moved his hand onto the center console and tapped his fingers to the song on the radio as he drove. You looked at his fingers tapping. The veins at the top of his hand protruded as his fingers moved.

You remembered the way his hand felt on top of yours while holding his guitar. His hands were rough and calloused from the guitar playing. But they were gentle at the same time. Again, perfectly balanced.

The sound of his voice speaking brought you out of the daydream you were having.

“Your Touch,” he said.

“Hm?”

“The song,” he said softly, “Your Touch, by The Black Keys.”

“Oh,” you replied as casually as possible, “You, uh, you like them?”

“Yeah,” he answered, “One of my favorites. You ever listen to ‘em?”

You shook your head.

“No?” He responded as he looked over at you and raised his eyebrows, “Hm. Good to know.”

He held back a smile and turned his attention back to the road.

You couldn’t begin to explain how or why but in that moment, something took over you. It was almost like Jake was a magnetic force, pulling you in.

You slid your hand on top of his softly and stopped his fingers from moving. You held his hand there for a moment, not really sure what to do next. He flipped his hand over so his palm was up and he wrapped his fingers around yours. He rubbed your hand with his thumb with his eyes glued to the road.

You smiled to yourself and tried to control your emotions. It was hard. Jake made it almost impossible. But Jake was easy to be with. Even though he made you excited and nervous, he was also very calming.

The drive back to his house was quiet, but never awkward. When he pulled into the driveway of the dark, ranch house, you both got out of the car and you followed him inside. He took your coat from you and put it on a hook next to the door.

“Want anything to eat? Drink? We have beer,” he asked, making his way towards the kitchen, flicking on light switches as he walked through the house. He pulled a beer from the refrigerator and held it up.

“Sure,” you replied.

Jake grabbed another from the refrigerator and took the caps off both bottles. He handed you one and extended his bottle to you. You clinked the bottle necks together and each took a sip.

“So where is everyone?” you asked as you leaned against the kitchen counter. You were genuinely curious as to why he was the only one home on a Friday night.

“Sam had some honors awards ceremony. I told them I had homework.”

“Since when does Jake Kiszka do homework?” you asked, smirking.

“Since I got an A on an English project a month ago,” he replied, smiling at you with his head tilted.

His expression turned just a bit more serious and he continued, “But you know, with them gone for the next hour, it gives us some time to hang out. Uninterrupted,” he said as he took a swig of the beer and didn’t break eye contact the entire time.

“Hm,” was all you could say before he walked towards you.

He brushed past your side, beer in hand, and leaned into you to speak.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.”

He grabbed your hand, pulled you out of the kitchen, and down the hallway.

You followed him through the house and eventually down a hallway. He gestured towards doors and told you what was behind each one. Living room (which you’ve seen from afar before), basement, his parent’s room, sister’s room, and a bathroom. He stopped at the final door at the end of the hallway.

“And this? This is my room,” he said as he opened the door and extended his hand for you to go through first.

He flicked on the lightswitch to reveal a medium sized blue bedroom with three twin sized beds. Two on each side of the room and then one farther away, in a little corner carved out on the other side of a closet.

“Me, Josh, and Sam,” he said as he pointed at each bed.

You could see how they each decorated their spaces differently. Josh had film posters, sketches, and photos all over the wall by his bed. He had a shelf cluttered with trinkets and ornately decorated boxes above the head of his bed.

Sam’s was the bed tucked away in the corner. He had posters of a lot of older artists, and a ton of books; all neatly organized in contrast to Josh’s. There was a tall dresser in between Sam’s little corner and the closet with a record player on top and a stack of vinyls piled high.

Jake’s space was cool. He had posters of artists that were more modern and well known than what was on Sam’s wall, with a few older ones in the mix too. Soccer trophies were propped on a shelf above the head of the bed. And the acoustic guitar you and Jake played was leaning against a nightstand that separated his bed and Josh’s bed.

Jake sat down on his bed and put his beer on the nightstand. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s nice. It’s very…you,” you replied.

“And what exactly is ‘very me?’” he asked.

“You know, interesting, cool,”

“You think I’m cool?”

“Well, yeah…”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re cool too. I like you.”

The phrase I like you replayed in your head for a second. He liked you. He just said it. No one has ever said that to you before, at least not in the way Jake just did. In a romantic way.

You felt your heart warm up a little and all you could do was smile at him shyly.

Jake placed his hand on the spot next to him on his bed, looked at it, and looked up at you with eyes that said Are you going to stand there or do you want to sit here next to me?

You let out a small laugh and sat down next to him. He took your beer bottle and placed it on the nightstand next to his. You looked at each other for a minute. Neither of you spoke, but your eyes wandered all over each other’s faces.

“So, do you want to pick up where we left off?” he asked, putting his head down but looking up at you with his hair covering most of his eyes. Maybe you weren't the only nervous one after all.

“Yeah, like you said- uninterrupted. Right?” you asked, smiling.

He took your face in his right hand and rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

You heard him let out “Yeah,” in a soft whisper that was barely audible.

As he held your face, his rough fingers contrasted with your skin. He leaned in closer to you and you could feel your heart fluttering. He was close to you and the anticipation was killing you both. You had thought about doing this again since that day in the garage. It was practically the only thing you could think about for the past month. But you would never tell him that.

“Just tell me to stop and I will,” he whispered.

You nodded and connected your lips with his. You brought your hand to the back of his neck and pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss. His hair tickled your cheeks as his jaw moved. His tongue traced over your bottom lip and you let him in. You let out a sigh and you felt him smile into the kiss.

His mouth tasted like beer, spearmint, and a hint of something sweet that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but you liked it. Almost chocolatey.

Jake grabbed your waist and lowered you down on his bed, hovering over you. Your hands traveled up the sides of his body and along his back until you reached the back of his neck. You gave it a couple squeezes and flexed your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. He had one hand supporting his weight on the bed and the other holding onto your hip bone.

His lips wrapped around yours perfectly with every kiss and his tongue teased yours lightly every so often. The two of you continued like that for a few minutes.

He broke away and smiled at you before lowering his mouth to your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he got closer to your collarbone. He slid his tongue along the thin skin of it and started working his way back up.

“Jake,” you sighed.

He stopped, picked his head up, and looked at you.

“Are you okay? Is this okay?”

You gave him a little smile, biting your bottom lip. His eyes were wide and filled with concern, but softened once he saw your smile.

“Yeah, keep going, I like it,” you whispered.

A small, closed mouth smile crept onto his face.

“Whatever you say,” he said as he connected your lips again.

His hands slid along your hips and up a little onto your stomach, pushing your shirt up slightly. His lips made their way to your jaw again, just below your ear.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and ran your other hand up his back and in between his shoulder blades.

“Mmm,” you breathed out as he continued there, knowing he hit a sweet spot on you. You felt him breathe out through his nose and his lips move into a smile, almost as if he was laughing. He seemed to be very pleased with himself. There was no doubt he was going to leave a mark but Jesus Christ his lips felt too good to care.

You gave the hair at the bottom of his head a pull and he lifted his chin back up, making eye contact with you again. You both let out a little laugh and he sat up. He was between your legs, sitting back on his heels. Jake pushed his hair out of his face and looked down.

“I guess we should stop before, you know…” he trailed off the ending of his sentence, lifting his head and tilting it to peek at the spot on your neck he spent a little too much time on.

“Yeah,” you said, running your hands through your scalp and pushing your hair back.

You sat up and leaned against his headboard, running your fingers through your hair.

You ran your hand over the spot on your neck and rubbed it out a little. He leaned toward you and grabbed your wrist, pushing it down gently. He placed his hand on the spot and gently rubbed on it with his thumb a few times before pulling away.

You picked up the beer bottles off his night stand, handing him his.

“So,” you started, “do you have girls over here often?”

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at you, confused. “No, not really. Just the ones I like,” he smirked at you. “And like I said… I like you,” he said.

“What do you like about me?” you asked.

Jake laughed, tilted his head to look at the ceiling, and counted on his fingers as he spoke, “Well, I like that you’re smart. You’re pretty- that helps, he said, flashing a full smile at you.

You looked down at your hands shyly and bit your bottom lip.

Jake continued “I like the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you. I like the way your hair falls when you play with it. I like how you look down and bite your lip when you’re embarrassed. Kind of like what you’re doing now.”

He was good.

You looked back up at him. His eyes were soft again.

“Jake, I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, nervously.

“Say you like me back. I know you want to.”

He was right. You wanted to. You wanted to more than anything in the world.

You put the beer back down on the nightstand and ran your hand through his hair, bringing your fingers down to graze his face. You held his chin and you could feel the tiniest bit of soft, facial hair poking through.

“I like you, Jake.”

Instantly, you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders. That little secret you’ve been holding in for a month- finally he knew.

A little, satisfied chuckle left his lips. He leaned in and gave you the most gentle kiss.

When he pulled back you let go of his face and grabbed his hands from his lap and held onto them.

“Can I tell you what I like about you?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“Go on,” he said playfully, giving you that silly little kid look.

You started, “I like your eyes. They’re dreamy.”

Your right hand brushed his hair off his forehead to get a good view of them and then you let it drop back into his lap.

You started to play with his fingers and looked down at them as you spoke.

“I like your hands. They’re big, and rough. And I like holding them.”

You looked back up at Jake to see that he was giving you the sweetest smile you had ever seen. You melted from that look alone.

“I like how you put your hand behind your neck when you’re nervous. I like how when I’m talking to you, you look right at me. I like how you know what you want and you go for it.”

“You’re what I want,” he whispered.

“You want me?”

Jake nodded slowly with his mouth open just a bit as his tongue licked his bottom lip.

“You have me,” you replied in a whisper.

Jake brushed your hair away from your ear and kissed you again. Deeper. There was more passion behind this kiss than any other the two of you had shared. This one had meaning.

You continued at each other for a few minutes until you were interrupted by a ding of his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the screen.

“Ah, shit. It’s Josh. I told him to text me when they were about to leave. Can I take you home?”

“Yeah no problem,” you said as you got up from his bed and followed him out of his room.

The two of you started down the hallway back to the front door.

“So, Josh knows I’m here?” you asked as you put your coat on and as he grabbed a set of keys off a table by the door.

“Well, yeah. I trust him and I didn’t want this to end up like last time. You know with Sam and everything. Sorry if you didn’t want anyone to know. But I promised I would do it for him if the roles were reversed.”

He was doing it again- grabbing the back of his neck and looking down. You could tell he felt bad.

You grabbed his hand from behind his head and pulled it down in front of him, holding it with both your hands.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you reassured him, “I don’t mind.”

He looked up at you and breathed a small sigh of relief.

You both left the house and he locked the door behind you. As you two stepped into the cold November night he turned around and stopped you.

“Does this mean we’re…” he trailed off.

“We’re what?” you asked, already anticipating what he was going to say.

“You know, like boyfriend and girlfriend? God, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud,” he laughed.

You gave him a peck on the lips.

“It’s not stupid,” you said as you kept your face just an inch away from his and smiled at him.

“So, yes?” he asked, almost wincing.

“Yes,” you assured him with a smile. You pulled his hand to lead him to the car.

He drove you home and pulled into your driveway. You weren’t exactly sure how to say goodbye to him but before you got out of the car, he turned to you.

“By the way, I’ve never had a girl in my room before. Until today of course. I mean- besides my sister. So you’re like, the fir-”

Jake had a habit of over explaining when he got nervous.

“Shhh,” you said, grabbing his chin and bringing it closer to yours. You kissed him softly; and it took him a second, but he returned the kiss to you. You pulled away, both smiling.

At that exact moment, genuine happiness filled your entire body. Jake Kiszka. Who would have thought?

He watched you walk inside and drove away once your front door closed.

Jake got back home just in time for his family to arrive back, unsuspecting of the events which took place that night. Except Josh, who spotted two beer bottles on the nightstand when he walked in the room to go to bed. He took them outside and buried them deep in the garbage can to cover up for Jake.

December 2013:

You and Jake had been together for about a month now. He stopped sneaking you into his house about a week after you two made it official. His parents approved of the two of you. Yours did as well. He had gone to your house and met your parents and they really liked him. But your parents were home a lot, and his parents were more easy going. So you spent more time at his house.

School had just gotten out for winter break. Typically, you would go home after school with Jake on days he didn’t have band practice. You usually did homework with him, and then the two of you went to his room to be alone for a bit. Sometimes Jake would show you music he liked, or he’d roll you a joint to share from the (terrible quality) weed he stole from Josh; and the two of you would smoke for a bit.

You did other things too. Like most teenagers, you and Jake started exploring a little more of each other’s bodies. It had gone just far enough to the point you were both comfortable with. You’d been each other’s first experience for a few things so far.

It started with heavy make out sessions that quickly led to more. Jake asked if it was okay if his hands wandered, which it was. It was more than okay. You would guide his hands to where you wanted them and he’d do the same for you.

What started as feeling each other above clothes turned into feeling each other under clothes, to say the least.

You would each go further a little bit every time it happened, testing the waters on each other to see how far you were both willing to go. Jake never took things too far though. He knew you were hesitant about doing some things and he never took it farther than you wanted it to go.

When Sam came home from school, you usually moved to the living room or basement until Jake’s parents came home from work. Josh respected the situation but Sam didn’t exactly understand it yet. You never did anything explicit in front of Sam of course, but it was awkward with Sam in the boys’ room doing his homework while you and Jake were doing couple things; or as Sam called it, “Tainting his innocence.”

You were on the couch in the Kiszka living room, laying down longways with your head in Jake’s lap as he played with your hair. You both listened to Sam and Josh debate the best way to decorate their Christmas tree.

His brothers’ conversation faded in the background as Jake spoke to you.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” he asked as he rubbed your hairline with his thumbs lightly.

“Same as every year. My dad’s side of the family is coming over. It’ll probably be pretty boring to be honest.”

“Do you want to come here? I mean, I’m sure your family wants to spend time with you. But, maybe for a little bit?”

You smiled up at him and licked your bottom lip. “Okay, I’ll ask my mom.”

Jake leaned his head down and placed an upside down kiss on your lips. With your lips still locked, you smiled into him, causing your mouths to separate. He poked your teeth with his tongue playfully. His shaggy hair fanned over your chin and tickled you, making you giggle.

“Get a room!” Sam yelled, bringing you both back to reality.

“I have one but someone doesn’t approve of me being in there with my girlfriend,” Jake snapped back.

“Because you guys do weird things in there! My poor virgin eyes have seen enough!”

You laughed and Jake rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Sam, you’re fourteen! Get over it!” Jake said.

“I will not!” Sam replied.

“One day you’ll understand,” Jake said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, maybe. But that day is not today!” Sam replied firmly.

You got up, held your hand out to Jake. He took it and you pulled him off the couch.

“Come on,” you said, “lets’ go make out on Sam’s bed.”

Jake smiled a devilish smile and let a laugh out of his nose. He picked you up, holding you just under your butt, and ran out of the room with you. Both of you laughed as he carried you out of the room.

“No! Come on! Are you serious? Jesus Christ, no! Jake, I swear to God!” Sam’s voice faded away as Jake carried you down the hall and into the boys shared room, locking the door behind him.

December 25 , 2013:

You asked your mom about going to the Kiszka’s for Christmas and she agreed to let you go after dinner. The plan was that she would drop you off as long as Jake would bring you home, which he agreed to.

You arrived at the Kiszka’s house at around 7:30 pm. Jake walked out to the driveway to get you. He greeted your mom and promised to have you home that night. As you both walked back up his driveway and towards the front door- you stopped him.

“Jake, wait. I’m… I’m kind of nervous about this,” you admitted.

“About what? Meeting my cousins and stuff?” he asked.

You looked down at both your feet and nodded your head. He held your lower back and lifted your chin with his index finger so your eyes met his.

“Hey,” he began, “you don’t have anything to worry about. They’re going to love you.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and looked up at you through his hair.

“Okay? Breathe for me, baby,” he said calmly.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath in, and let your shoulders relax as you exhaled.

“Good, Baby,” he whispered, “Come on, I got you,"

He let go of your chin, took your hand, and led you into the house.

The six Kiszkas you knew were loud. That was a fact. However, a house full of thirty Kiszkas was a completely different story. There were people of all ages everywhere- drinking, talking, yelling, and running around.

Jake introduced you to his grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. They were all very welcoming and took to you right away. He was right, you really didn’t have anything to worry about.

You and Jake hung out with his family for a while. His mom bragged about you. His aunts loved you. They wanted to know all about how you met and how you’re putting up with him. His grandmother called you “Honey” and told you stories about Jake when he was little. You laughed while he rolled his eyes and begged her to stop.

You talked with his cousins for a while too. A lot of them were close to your age and you discovered you had a lot of shared interests with them.

Josh was floating around the room butting into everyone’s conversations, looking and sounding like he drank more than he should have. Sam and Ronnie were busy with their noses in the instruction manual of some electronic Sam had gotten as a gift.

Jake’s grandfather called him over and whispered something in his ear. Jake gave you a be right back look. He returned to his grandfather with two red solo cups and his grandfather poured scarlet liquid in them from a pitcher on the dining room table. Jake walked over to you, drinks in hand. He extended one out to you.

“It’s whiskey, cranberry juice, sour mix, and a ‘secret ingredient.’ My grandpa makes it every year and he finally let Josh and I have it this year. My mom doesn’t know though, she would kill him. But it’s good, try it.”

You lifted the cup to your mouth and instantly you could smell the alcohol. Well this explains Josh’s tipsy state, you thought to yourself as you took a sip.

The drink was strong, but it tasted good. Like cinnamon. It was a good holiday drink, perfect for the occasion. You smiled at Jake and he looked at his grandfather, giving him a little finger gun motion.

“Come here I have something I want to show you,” Jake said as he pulled you down the hall and into his room, closing the door behind him.

The loud noises of the Kiszka family became muffled by the closed door.

He sat you down on his bed and he went down on his knees to reach under it.

“Close your eyes,” he said with one hand still hidden under the bed while the other hand held his cup.

You closed your eyes and felt him place something in your lap.

“Okay… open your eyes.”

You looked down at your lap to see a small silver box with a little red ribbon on top.

“Jake,” you started, “We agreed- no presents!”

“I know, I know. But, you mean a lot to me and I just- I don’t know. I wanted to,” he explained.

You put your cup on his nightstand and unwrapped the bow, looking at Jake before completely opening the box. Jake’s face in that moment brought you back to when he opened the garage door to you for the first time. He was excited but also apprehensive about your reaction.

You opened the box to reveal a gold necklace with a charm of your first initial shining brightly in the dim light of his bedroom.

“Jake,” you whispered.

“Do you like it?” he asked, still on his knees in front of you.

“I love it, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

You leaned down to kiss him. Your lips joined for a minute and he stood up, never breaking the connection. You pulled away as he got higher and you were still sitting.

“Can you help me put it on?” You asked him.

“Of course. Hold this for a second,” he said, extending his cup out to you and you exchanged the necklace for the cup.

With the necklace in hand, Jake kneeled on his bed behind you. He moved your hair to one side of your neck and draped the necklace over your head, clasping it in the back. His hands traveled down your back and around your waist as he kissed the exposed spot on your neck.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said in his soft, raspy voice.

His voice sent vibrations through your body and made you shiver in the best way.

“Mmm. Merry Christmas, Jake,” you replied with a smile spreading wide across your face.

He reached around you and grabbed the cup from your hand, drinking the remainder of what was in it. He got back to his feet and walked over to the nightstand to place his empty cup on the nightstand next to yours. He leaned against it and placed his hands on the edge of it.

“Want to relax here for a little? It’s kind of loud out there,” he said, motioning his head towards the door.

“Sure,” you began, “I really like your family though.”

“I think they like you too. I told you you had nothing to worry about,” he said with a little I told you so smirk and raised eyebrows.

Jake unbuttoned his flannel shirt the rest of the way, and pulled it off his shoulders. The warm light of his room casted shadows and highlighted the muscles in his back and arms. Your eyes trailed down to his stomach, his barely there ab muscles flexed as he turned his body to throw the shirt across the room. Above his belt he had just a little bit of fat that rested on his hips. His body wasn’t perfect, but to you it was.

He undid his belt, kicked off his pants, and tossed both into a hamper by the closet. He opened the bottom drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a t- shirt and a pair of boxers.

He held them out to you and said, “If you want to wear something more comfortable.”

You pulled your sweater over your head, let it fall to the floor, and threw on his shirt. Jake pretended to look away but you caught his eyes wandering a few times.

As you unbuttoned your jeans, you saw him do his nervous neck grab again, and caught his eyes peeking around.

“I know what you’re doing,” you giggled as you threw your pants at him and put on the boxers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied with a sly smirk lighting up his face.

Jake has seen your body before. In fact, he’s seen more of you than this before. But for some reason, this little moment was different.

Maybe it was because it was Christmas. Maybe it was because of the alcohol. Or maybe it was because your feelings towards each other were growing stronger and you both knew it- but were just a little too shy to say anything.

Jake sat down on his bed, leaned against the headboard and stretched his legs out. You climbed in between his legs and sunk into his body. He was warm. His skin was soft. His body around you like this reminded you of the time in the garage. However, it was more intimate this time. You were in his bed, he was practically naked underneath you, and you were in his clothes.

You felt completely secure and safe in his arms. You leaned your head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head and pulled the covers over the both of you.

You closed your eyes as Jake traced patterns on your upper arm with his fingertips underneath his blanket.

“Don’t forget you have to take me home later,” you mumbled.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, gently grabbing your head and pushing your hair out of your face.

You woke up the next morning with heavy eyes. You felt a huge weight on your back. You opened your eyes to see Jake, shirtless, with his arm draped over you.

You squinted your eyes as the sun shone through the window next to his bed and lit up the room. You picked your head up and looked over at him. He was fast asleep.

“What the fu-” you start to say.

“Mmm, baby go back to sleep,” Jake answered in a deep, raspy voice. His arm that rested on your back pulled your body closer to his.

You sat up on your elbow and looked at the clock on his nightstand.

10:24 AM.

Next to the clock were the two empty cups that were once full of liquor. You looked around the room. Josh was passed out with one leg dangling off his bed, his face deep in his pillow, and breathing with his mouth open.

Sam was gone, thankfully.

You pulled Jake’s arm off you, reached for your phone, and sat up. Eleven missed calls and countless texts from your mom. Fuck.

“Jake, baby, get up,” you said as you gave his side a little nudge.

He breathed in deep and opened his eyes, blinking a few times. His normally tired eyes looked even more tired than usual as he fought to keep them open.

“You were supposed to take me home last night. My mom is going to kill me. And my dad? Oh God, my dad is going to kill you.”

Jake instantly perked up when he realized the situation at hand.

“Oh shit,” he said, ripping the covers off himself and getting out of bed.

Silently, you both got up and started getting changed back into your clothes. He tossed your clothes onto the bed and reached into the hamper to get his from last night.

You kept Jake’s shirt on and held your sweater in your arms. You looked down at your phone, thinking of how you could possibly explain this to your parents as Jake put his shoes on.

The door to the bedroom opened and in walked Sam with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

“Have fun last night?” Sam asked suspiciously as he walked over to his bed.

He continued, “You know, Christmas is a sacred holiday. It is the day of Jesus’ birth. It is not a day to fu-”

“Oh my God! Sam, would you shut up already?” Jake yelled.

With the raise of Jake’s voice, Josh jolted in bed with a gasp. He relaxed when he opened his eyes briefly to see he was in his own bed.

“It’s too early for this, go back to sleep,” he groaned in a tired voice. He rolled over, pushed his entire face back into his pillow, and covered himself up completely in his comforter.

Sam walked out of the room with a towel on his arm and a smirk on his face. As if he knew some kind of top secret information. Like, Jake was going to be in big trouble. Based on Sam’s reaction, you wondered if Jake’s parents knew you were still there.

Jake turned to you, “Stay here for a second, I’m gonna go see if my parents are around.”

He walked out the room and closed the door most of the way behind him. You heard a faint conversation between him and his mom coming from the living room.

After a few minutes, the door opened again and Jake came through, breathing deep and handing you a bottle of water.

“Okay,” he began slowly, “They know you’re here. But I told them nothing happened and I think they believe me. They’re not mad. They’re mostly pissed at me because I didn’t take you home last night like I promised.”

You got up from his bed and smiled at him.

“Well, you’re taking me home now, aren’t you? So you kept half the promise.”

Jake smiled back and gave you a little kiss on the lips.

“Come on, go say bye to my parents and get in the car. I have some explaining to do with your parents,” he laughed nervously.

You got home and explained the situation to your parents. Jake apologized and they accepted it. They were still pretty mad and told you that you couldn’t see Jake for the rest of winter break. You couldn’t blame them.

However, you planned to text during the day and call each other every night to talk. The texting and calling helped but you still missed him. You missed the things you couldn’t get through a phone.

You missed his touch. You missed the way his hair fluttered around your face when he kissed you. You missed the way his eyes lit up when he talked about stuff he liked. You missed the way he looked at you when you explained stuff to him. But most of all, you missed the way he made you feel. Safe. And loved.

That night, Sam laid awake in his bed, unable to sleep. He whispered to Jake to see if he was awake. Jake replied that he was.

“So…how do you kiss a girl?” Sam asked shyly.

Jake laughed lightly, “I’ll explain tomorrow. Go to sleep, Sammy.”

January 2014:

Your parents warmed back up to Jake after a bit of time and allowed you to continue going to his house after school and on weekends. Sam grew to be more accepting of your relationship after a conversation with Jake about girls over winter break. Now instead of gagging noises when you two did anything in front of him, he blew little air kisses at you.

It was Sunday and neither of you had responsibilities for the day. It was snowing outside and the area was expected to get about 10-12 inches so you were sure school would be canceled the next day. The roads were already covered with snow and ice. Your parents knew you’d have to end up sleeping at Jake’s house until the roads were cleared. Jake’s mom assured her that you would sleep in the basement and Jake would sleep in his room. Doors open.

You sat on the floor of Kiszka’s living room with Jake. You sat a foot away from each other, throwing popcorn into each other’s mouths and giggling while Josh laid on the couch with his eyes attached to the screen in front of him.

“Are you guys seriously going to do that the entire time?” Josh asked, his eyes still not leaving the screen as he spoke.

“I’m sorry Josh, would you like to join us? We could all cuddle later if you want too?” Jake teased.

Josh rolled his eyes.

“Very funny. Ha. Ha. You know,” he began, talking with his hands flailing around, “this film is absolute perfection. The film noir elements are so subtle, yet strong. Even for the time period, it really stands out as one of the most well thought out displays of cinematography to date. I mean just look at the camera work here! The shadows! The way it pans out! AH! SO GOOD!”

His eyes went back to being glued on the screen, paying the utmost attention to his film and resting his chin in his hand.

Josh was in his element. His own little world. Film was something he loved. He could study it for hours. He didn’t plan on moving from that spot on the couch for the rest of the day.

“Want to go outside?” Jake suggested, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Now? Isn’t it snowing?” you asked.

“What, you’ve never played in the snow before?”

He tilted his head at you and started to get up. He lifted you to your feet, grabbed the popcorn bowl off the floor, and placed it in Josh’s lap.

Jake turned to Josh before following you out of the room and down the hall.

“We’re gonna go outside if you want to come,” he offered.

“Mmm,” Josh mumbled, waving Jake away, eyes not moving from the screen.

You and Jake walked down the hall, and into his room to get his boots and coat. As you entered, you stopped when you saw Sam laying on the floor in the middle of the room. His eyes were closed, his legs were crossed at his ankles, and his hands rested behind his head. A small smile formed on his face as a record of blues music played from the record player on top of the boys’ dresser.

Jake stepped over him and reached into the closet to grab what he needed. Sam had no idea either of you were in the room and he started humming and moving his head to the song.

You looked down at Sam and smiled, seeing how content and at peace he was in his own little musical world. Just like Josh was in the living room with his film. If there was one thing Sam loved, it was music.

You both put on your coats and hats and walked into the kitchen to leave through the backdoor. Both Jake’s mom and dad were in the kitchen baking with Ronnie.

“You guys going outside?” Karen asked, putting a tray of cookies in the oven.

“Mmhm,” you and Jake replied in unison.

“Have fun,” Kelly said as he wiped down the countertops and tossed the paper towel in the garbage.

Jake opened the back door and ushered you out. The snow had stopped falling momentarily and Jake’s backyard looked right out of a movie scene. Snow had stuck to the bare tree branches, turning them white. A perfect white blanket of snow covered the grass with some tiny squirrel footprints trailing across the yard.

Jake walked across the deck with you following behind him. There was a path carved out from where his dad shoveled through earlier.

“Be careful, this is where I cracked my head open when I was three,” he said as he hopped down the steps and out onto the snow covered grass. “I told you about that right?”

“Ha, yeah once or twice,” you replied.

Jake loved to tell you stories about him nearly dying during his childhood. There were many. His poor mother.

Jake held his hand out to you and you took it in yours as you walked down the steps, careful not to step on any patches of ice.

You stood on the last step and stopped to face him. His shaggy bangs covered his eyes and poked out of the bottom of his knitted beanie. Standing on the step made you a couple inches taller than usual and your eyes were perfectly even with his. His nose had turned a little red from the cold already and you kissed the tip of it. He smiled and repeated the action to you.

“Hop on,” he said as he turned around, motioning you to piggyback him.

You only had sneakers on and he had proper snow boots, so there was no way you could walk through 8 inches of snow on your own. You jumped onto his back and wrapped your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms under your legs and lifted you up higher on him. You rested your chin on his shoulder and he started through the snow.

You turned your face into the side of his neck just by his ear and pressed kisses to his skin as he continued to walk, slowing his steps as you got closer to the spot on his neck that made him weak everytime.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna end up dropping you,” he warned playfully.

“I know you wouldn’t,” you returned his playful tone and continued sprinkling him with kisses.

He stopped walking and turned his face towards yours.

“What if I did? What would you do if I dropped you right now?” he smirked.

“Jake, if you drop me in this snow-”

“Yeah? What would you do?” he chuckled, raising his eyebrows.

He knew you didn’t have any line of defense here and he held all the power in his hands. He could easily throw you backwards into the snow right now.

“I will kick you in the balls so hard, you’ll never have kids,” you warned.

Part of you was joking, but the other part was serious.

“Oooh, is that a threat or a promise?” he said suggestively.

You tapped him lightly on his cheek and pushed his face away, mimicking a smack.

He kept walking until he got to a picnic table in the middle of the yard. He extended one arm to push some snow off it, revealing a portion of the wooden surface. He turned around and let you sit down on it. Your legs dangled off the sides and Jake turned his body around to face you. He grabbed your face in his hands, cupping your jaw. He placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

“Mhm, anything,” you replied, nodding your head.

He put his hand behind his neck. You knew he was nervous.

“I…” he sighed, “Nevermind, it’s.. it’s stupid,” he stuttered.

“Jake, you can’t say you want to tell me something and then not say it.”

“Nevermind, really, it’s stupid. I’ll tell you later. Not now,” he shook his head.

“Okay fine but promise you’ll tell me later?” you asked as you grabbed his chin.

He nodded as his eyes darted all over your face- almost like he was searching your face for an answer to something he wasn’t sure of.

You both paused there for a moment, just looking at each other.

You broke eye contact with him and picked up some of the fresh, fluffy snow off the table and held it in your hand. You opened your palm in front of his face and blew it on him. His eyes shut tight and he scrunched up his nose at the sudden cold feeling on his face. He opened his eyes, his mouth hung open, and he let out a breath, shocked.

You laughed seeing him caught off guard. A smile appeared across his face and his eyes grew wild with mischief. Suddenly, he nuzzled his cold, wet, face in your neck; kissing you with snowflakes shivering your skin.

“Jake!” you playfully whined as you wiggled your head and shoulders to get his cold face away from your neck.

Jake placed one arm under your legs and the other arm around your back, swooping you up bridal style off the table. He started back towards the house with you in his arms.

“Let’s go, Baby. Back inside. No more snow for you,” he huffed. He kissed you on your temple as he hitched you up.

As he was trudging through the snow with his heavy boots, he missed a step and tripped with you in his arms. He still had you but both of you gasped and breathed out with sighs of relief and chuckles when he got his balance again.

He looked down at you in his arms, “Did you think I was going to let you go?” He questioned.

“For a second there, yeah!” you admitted, laughing.

“You’re lucky. You came close to going down,” he replied, smiling.

“You would let me fall?” you asked innocently, raising your eyebrows at him.

“What, like this?” he asked as he faked you out. He let you drop for a second before catching you again.

You squealed and gripped his neck tighter. Jake was bending down with you hanging in his arms. Your body was a foot off the ground, and your hair was falling behind you.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do now?” he said as he lowered you down further, your body now just a few inches from the ground. His smile lit up his face as he spoke and his entire body vibrated from laughing.

“You know what I said I’d do if you dropped me,” you smiled with your tongue between your teeth and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Try me,” he whispered.

And with that, thud. He dropped you right into the snow. You felt the cold surround your body, shocking you slightly. Your jaw dropped as you looked up at him. Your body was frozen both figuratively and literally.

His bright smile was huge on his face. His shoulders moved up and down as he laughed nervously. He wasn’t sure if he just made a huge mistake.

Jake reached his hand out to you to pull you up and you took it. He started to bring you to your feet when you shot your foot up to his groin, and made contact. He let go of your hand, plopping you back into your spot in the snow.

“Ohh!” He groaned as he grabbed himself and spun in a circle around himself, hunched over a little.

“Hahaha! I told you I would!” you laughed.

“You’re gonna get it now,” he said, lunging towards you.

“Jake!” you screeched.

He threw himself on top of you and laughed before he kissed you hard, pushing both of you down deeper into the snow. The area surrounding your body was freezing but his breath was warm against your face and his body was warm on top of you.

He pulled away from the kiss and looked you in the eyes. His expression turned serious. His eyes were scanning your face again and finally he breathed out.

“I…Y/N, I….I love you.”

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words. Love.

His tired eyes silently begged you to say something, anything back to him. He held his breath and never broke eye contact with you as he waited for a reaction.

“Jake, I…” you began, reaching up and holding his cheek in your hand. “I love you too.”

The words came out of your mouth as if you had been holding onto them for years, even though it had only been a few months. It felt absolutely right. There was no doubt in your mind. You loved Jake.

“Yeah?” he asked, blinking and raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” you said softly, reassuring him and giving him a little peck on the lips.

He flashed that big bright smile at you again and you did the same. He kissed you again.

Deep.

Long.

Passionately.

Your heart was exploding in your chest in the best way. Your head was reeling as your lips moved against his. You didn’t even care that you were laying in the freezing snow. Everything about this moment was perfect. It was like everything in life had come to a peak right here. You didn’t care about anything else in the world, except him.

The snow started to fall again and Jake broke away from you, laughing. He sat up and pulled you up with him. There was no use in him carrying you now, both of you were soaking wet.

You and Jake spent close to an hour outside together in the snow. You had snowball fights, made snow angels, and caught snowflakes on your tongues.

When you couldn’t feel your hands anymore and Jake’s lips started to turn a shade of purple, you decided to call it a day and you walked back to the house, hand in hand.

You stopped him at the door and put your hands around his waist, clasping them behind his back and pulling him in tight. “Say it again,” you said softly.

“I love you,” he said confidently.

“I love you,” you replied.

He kissed you and hummed into the kiss, “Mmm, God I love you,” he said smiling.

You bit your lip and turned the doorknob to the inside.

When you entered the kitchen, his parents gave each other a smirk as they cleaned up the remainder of the dishes. You could tell they were watching from the kitchen window.

“Did you guys have fun out there?” Karen asked sweetly, even though she already knew the answer.

“Yeah,” Jake tried to say casually, hiding a smile.

“Go get out of those clothes and into something warm, now!” Kelly called as you and Jake exited the kitchen.

Jake met you in the laundry room with a pair of boxers, sweatpants, and one of his hoodies.

You both took your clothes off, threw them in the dryer, and put the fresh ones on. Jake pressed the ON button before leaving the small room.

Now dry and warm, you stopped by the boys’ room to get your phone and you saw Sam- still on the floor, in the same position you saw him last.

You and Jake went downstairs to set up the pull out couch for you to sleep on that night and as you passed the living room, just like Sam, Josh had not moved an inch. Both of them were still in their own little worlds.

Jake helped you set up the bed and when you were done, the two of you went upstairs for dinner. You sat next to Jake and he held your hand and your thigh under the table the entire time.

After dinner, Jake accompanied you in the basement for a bit. He knew eventually he would have to go upstairs and sleep in his own bed, as previously decided by both sets of parents.

He laid on his back with your head on his chest, cuddled into him, looking at the TV. The two of you were watching a movie when you looked up at him.

“Hey, what was that thing that you wanted to tell me earlier?” you asked.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I already said it,” he replied.

“What, that you love me?” you asked with a smile.

“You like hearing it, don’t you?”

You nodded at him.

“Yes. I love you,” he said, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

He was right. You loved hearing him say it. It was the way his soft, raspy voice practically sang the phrase. You couldn’t get enough.

Jake’s hand lazily rubbed your back and you felt his heartbeat in his chest as you closed your eyes for the night.

Before going to bed, Kelly looked into the boys room to see Jake’s bed was empty and noticed that coming from the basement stairs was a dull glow of the TV and the light sounds of Jake’s snoring.

Karen came up behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“You wanna tell him to get up here and go to bed?” she asked.

“No,” Kelly replied, “he’s in his own little world.”

February 2014:

As the cold, Michigan winter rolled on, you and Jake spent a lot of time together. After the initial “I love you” was off both of your chests, things continued to blossom between the two of you and you became each other’s best friends. You revealed secrets about yourselves that no one else knew. You told each other about your insecurities. He showed you the scar on his arm from when he broke it in middle school and you traced your fingers lightly on it. When he rubbed your legs, he kissed the stretch marks on your thighs that you were always self conscious about. You two were a real couple. Sure you were still only young, but everything about it felt right. You and Jake fit together. Being with him was like riding a bike or walking- it was second nature to you.

You were in the Kiszka’s kitchen after school one day with Jake. It was just the two of you, no one else was home. His parents trusted him with you. In general, they were cool parents, but they also knew nothing would go on in their house that they had to worry about.

You sat on the counter with Jake standing in between your legs. He put a cookie in your mouth and brought his face close to yours to bite off the half that was sticking out to him.

“So,” he started as he chewed, “Valentine’s Day is coming up.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed as you chewed the cookie.

“Can I take you out?”

“Like, on a date?” you asked.

“Well, yeah. We’ve never actually had a real date yet,” he reminded you.

He was right. The two of you never actually went somewhere together. All of the time you spent together was either at school, your house, or his house- mostly his house.

“Oooh, what do you have in mind?” you asked, smirking at him playfully.

Jake lowered his head and laughed, “You’ll see,” he replied, looking up at you through his hair. You loved when he did that. His hair was getting longer and he refused to cut it. He liked it like that. He said one day he wanted to grow it past his shoulders, like a “Rock God.”

He pushed himself up on his tiptoes to give you a kiss and then lowered you down off the counter. He pulled you into the living room. He sat down on the couch, still holding onto your hand as you stood in front of him.

“Kiss me,” he groaned with his head tilting up and his eyes closing slightly.

You straddled him and put your knees on either side of his thighs. He held your waist and you lowered your head to connect your lips. It started off soft but quickly gained passion.

Jake’s tongue started sliding along your bottom lip and entering your mouth. His hands traveled past your waist and rested on your butt. You snaked your hands under his shirt and you felt his stomach muscles tighten with the contact. You rubbed the skin of his stomach, feeling goosebumps rise on the surface of his skin.

Jake moaned into the kisses, sending vibrations through your body. You pulled back from him, and looked at him. His eyes were in a dreamy state. You gave him one last kiss on the side of his mouth before attaching your lips to his neck. He tilted his head back to give you better access, breathing heavily and closing his eyes as you littered his neck with wet kisses and sucked on that sweet spot just below his ear.

He snaked his hands up under your shirt and rubbed up and down your back. His hands slipped under your bra strap, toying with it, teasing you. His calloused fingertips dug into the delicate skin of your back as he played with it. You grinded your hips down against him and he moved his along with yours.

“Honey, I’m home!” you heard a familiar voice boom as the front door swung open.

Jake opened his eyes and ripped his hands away from you. You turned your head and jumped off of Jake to sit next to him on the couch.

Josh looked at you both with a shocked expression that quickly turned into a suggestive smirk.

“I’m not telling you how to live your lives,” he said casually as he raised his hands as a sign of surrender, “but, no sex on the family couch. Anywhere else is fine though.”

“I thought you had rehearsal?” Jake asked with a confused look on his face.

“I did, but they didn’t need me much today,” Josh replied, “I have to go run my lines anyway. Have fun,” Josh said suggestively as he shot a wink at you.

He kicked his shoes off and walked down the hall into the boys room, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Catching your breath, you turned to Jake and combed your fingers through your hair.

“Jake,” you started, “Does he think that we…”

“We, what?”

“You know.”

“Know, what?”

“Does Josh think that we… have sex?”

Jake coughed at the question and a shocked expression appeared on his face. He looked to the floor, trying to recollect instances that may have led Josh to think that.

“I mean, he knows we mess around. We’ve done almost everything except that. And he has. I’ve talked to him about some stuff. I mean, he’s my twin brother. And honestly it would make sense for him to think we have,” he answered.

You sighed and looked down at your hands. Jake grabbed them and pulled them to his mouth, kissing your knuckles and setting them down on his lap.

“Hey,” he began, “you really care what he thinks?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

Neither of you had done it yet. But you felt like everyone else in the world had. Josh had and so had a handful of your friends. You wanted to and so did Jake, Jake more than you. But you were scared and Jake knew it. Usually when things got heated, one of you would call it off before you went all the way. You out of fear, and Jake out of respect for you. But, no matter the reason, you both didn’t mind though. It just wasn’t the right time yet.

“Look at me, Baby,” Jake whispered, “Don’t worry about what Josh thinks may or may not have happened. It’ll happen when it happens. When you’re ready. And I won’t talk about it to him again. Okay? I’m sorry, I know it’s different for girls,” he said calmly as he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

“Okay,” you said softly.

He grabbed the remote control off the coffee table and turned on the TV. He pulled you into his arms and rubbed your shoulder with his thumb. You both fell asleep and woke up when Sam and Ronnie got home with his parents. Jake drove you home and worked on his date plans that night.

February 14, 2013:

The ring of the door bell made you jump. You looked down at your phone. 7 PM exactly. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, grabbed your coat and headed downstairs. Jake had told you to dress warm, not fancy. He didn’t tell you anything except that. When you tried to get details out of him, he would do a little “zipped lips” motion with his mouth and fingers.

When you got downstairs you saw Jake at the door, talking to your mom. She turned around when she heard your footsteps.

“Hi,” you said, smiling at him and biting your lip.

“Hey,” Jake said, his eyes scanning you up and down, holding back a full smile.

“Midnight,” your mom said sternly, looking Jake in the eyes. She did not want a repeat of the last time Jake was supposed to bring you back home at night.

“Yes. Midnight,” Jake nodded.

Your mom gave you a wink as she walked away, leaving you and Jake alone.

“You look beautiful, as always,” Jake said, pulling you into a hug and giving you a small kiss on the lips.

You pushed his hair out of his face, “Thank you. You look cute. You know I like it when you wear that hat.”

He was wearing that same beanie he wore that day in the snow. The bangs of his hair poked out of the bottom and covered almost half of his face.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked as he led you out the front door.

“Nope,” he said playfully, opening the passenger door to the white Jeep his parents allowed him and Josh to drive. Jake only had his permit, and Frankenmuth was a small town. Plus, his family knew a lot of the cops in town so his parents let him drive around town because they knew he’d never get in trouble. He just wasn’t allowed to go outside of town.

Jake began the drive to his destination and you kept your eyes on him. As he drove through the main part of town, the bright lights from streetlights and storefronts illuminated his features and casted shadows over his eyes and accentuated his cheekbones. It reminded you of the first time you were in the car with him. You were nervous with him back then, where now, you were completely relaxed.

He slid his hand over your knee and traveled it up towards your thigh as he held back a small smile. You rubbed your hand on top of his and held it there, giggling a little.

“Remember when you first came over and I told you that I liked when you look at me when you think I don’t see you?” he asked, eyes never leaving the road as he pulled up to a red light.

You giggled, “Yes?” you replied playfully.

“Well, now you’re starting to creep me out,” he joked.

You smacked his hand on your leg and then picked it up to kiss his knuckles.

He continued driving and you saw the AUF WIEDERSEHEN sign illuminated ahead.

“Jake? you dragged out the A in his name.

“Mhmm?” he replied, also dragging out the word.

“Where are we going?” you asked in that same tone.

“Not far, don’t worry, Mom,” he teased, giving your leg a squeeze as he drove under the sign and out of town.

Jake turned off the main road and started driving up a hill. The lights of the town were now far in the distance as he continued on a small gravel road surrounded by trees.

He pulled the Jeep into a spot off the road in the woods, hopped out, and ran over to your door. He opened it and grabbed your hand as you stepped out onto the ground. He started walking you down a small dirt path through the trees.

“Jake, if we get murdered tonight I will never forgive you.”

“Aw damn really? That’s exactly what I had in mind for tonight. Sorry, I thought you’d like the idea of kissing me with my blood from an ax wound on your hands as you watch the light leave my eyes,” he teased, earning himself a light smack on the chest.

As you kept walking, you saw a light peeking through the bare trees. Leaves left over from fall crunched under your feet as you walked.

“So,” he began, “One day when we were like 12, Josh and I went too far out of town on our bikes. We ended up riding up here, thinking it was a way back home, and we thought it was cool. I’ve come back a few times since then. I’ve never seen anyone here though. Ever.”

You started to walk into a clearing that dipped off like a cliff- looking down on Frankenmuth with lights in the distance. Right at the edge of the cliff was a little campfire. Along with a blanket and Jake’s backpack on the ground.

He walked you over to the blanket.

“Have a seat, My Love,” he said.

You sat down and he followed you, the heat from the fire warmed the two of you up perfectly. It was the dead of winter but you weren’t cold at all. He started digging into his backpack and pulled out two round glasses and a bottle of red wine.

“Ooh, so romantic,” you teased.

He flashed a smile at you, “Don’t tell my mom,” he whispered as if there were other people around to hear.

You held the glasses as he opened the wine and poured. You clinked the classes together and sipped it, looking at each other over the rim of the glasses.

You placed a wet, wine covered kiss to his lips. You tasted the flavors of him and the wine mixing on your tongue. He pulled away and smiled at you with the light from the fire lighting up his face.

He leaned back onto his elbows and stretched his legs out. You did the same but you leaned on one elbow and turned your body towards his slightly.

“See those lights out there?” he asked, pointing to the faintest cluster of lights off the edge of the land.

“Mmhmm,” you replied.

“That’s Detroit.”

He pointed to another area of lights farther in the distance to the side a bit.

“And that’s Canada. During the day, you can see Lake Erie.”

It was an absolutely breathtaking sight. You always felt kind of trapped in Michigan. But seeing the world out there, shining in front of you, made you feel like it was possible to get out and explore it one day with him.

The sky was clear. You could see every star in the sky and the full moon was shining overhead. You loved the night sky and Jake knew that. It always made you feel so small. Like any problem you ever had was insignificant compared to how big the universe was. You both looked up to the sky, gazing at the stars and the moon. Jake looked for a little extra time, studying it closely. His eyes squinted and he was in deep thought.

“What are you looking at?” you asked him playfully, noticing his fixation on the sky.

He sat up and dug into his backpack again, this time, he pulled out a piece of paper.

Jake pointed to a spot in the sky.

“You see that star? The one just above that little string of four?”

“Yeah, why?” you asked once you spotted it.

“Well, it’s yours.”

“What do you mean it’s mine?”

Jake unfolded the paper in his hand and let you look at the document in the firelight. Your heart raced and your jaw dropped as you read the words on the paper. You looked at him. He was looking back at you with those nervous eyes again.

“You named a star after me?” you whispered as tears formed in your eyes and your lips parted in surprise.

He nodded, his head turning to the side a bit to get a good look at you. His mouth formed a smile.

You shook your head, “Jake,” was all you could say. You were speechless.

With his thumb, he wiped a tear that fell onto your cheek and he held your face in his hand. He looked deep into your eyes and waited for you to say something.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” you said.

You barely finished the last word when his mouth crashed into yours. He leaned over you and his lips never parted from yours as he laid you down on the blanket covered ground.

You know when people say they feel fireworks when they kiss someone? You didn’t feel fireworks. You felt a volcanic explosion. Your entire body was electrified. It was a deep feeling, deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before. You wanted this feeling forever and you knew with Jake, you’d have it that way.

You and Jake talked a lot about life that night. You discussed your goals, ambitions, and futures. It was one of the most serious and mature conversations you ever had. Not just with Jake, but with anyone. Period. You were growing up and becoming adults. Your childhood was fading quickly and although not knowing the future scared you, you had him to go through it with; and that made you feel a lot better.

Jake’s phone buzzed at 11:15. He set an alarm this time so he could get you back home on time. You packed up everything, put out the fire, and got back in the car. Before he put it in drive you leaned over to him, turned his chin towards you, and kissed him.

“Thank you for everything tonight,” you said, planting more soft kisses on his lips.

He held onto the back of your neck and pulled you closer. You moved your tongue into his mouth and he did the same. You continued like that for a few minutes, getting lost within each other.

His hands traveled down your body as yours rubbed along his thighs. He pushed up the divider and you crawled up onto the seat. He moved his seat back so you were able to sit on his lap. You felt him through his jeans and he moaned into your kisses.

You pushed his coat off of his shoulders and he did the same on you. His hands traveled up to your chest, under your shirt, feeling you over your bra. His thumbs rubbing the skin just above the cups. You unbuttoned his jeans and let your hands feel him up over his boxers. You unbuttoned yours and started to pull them off yourself.

He pulled his mouth off yours and grabbed your wrists.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, pressing your lips onto his neck.

He moved his neck for you to get off of him and shook his head at you.

“No. I’m not letting you do this. This isn’t what you want.”

“It is what I want, Jake. Come on, just do it. Get it over with.”

He pulled your jeans back up on you and buttoned his own.

“No. That’s exactly why I’m not doing this with you right now. Get it over with? Are you serious?”

You leaned back on his lap and looked at him with angry eyes and your lips pursed shut.

“Jake, I’m ready!” you said sharply.

“Yeah, well two days ago you weren’t!” he shot back.

You pulled your coat back on and sat back down in the passenger seat, arms crossed, looking straight ahead. You couldn’t see him but his jaw was clenched and his eyes looked down at your legs. You both sat there in silence for a few moments. You’d never fought before. It wasn’t exactly a fight- more of a disagreement. But still, you had never felt anger towards him. Secretly you knew he was right though. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

Jake was the first to speak.

“Baby, it’s not that I don’t want to. Trust me, I want to,” he breathed as he turned to you. “But this isn’t the time, and it’s especially not the place. I mean, come on, in a car?”

You looked at him, relaxed your face, and sighed, even laughed a little.

“You’re right,” you said, reaching your hand out to him.

He took your hand in his and rubbed the top of it with his thumb.

“When we do it, we’re gonna do it right. And I’ll make sure it’s perfect,” he assured you, “I love you, you know that,” he said in his soft, deep voice.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. While they were closed, you leaned forward to him, placing the most gentle kiss on his cheek.

He opened his eyes and smiled at you.

“Come on,” he whispered, opening the car door and getting out.

“Jake, what the hell are you doing?” you asked as he opened your door and dragged you out by your hands and walked with you to the front of the Jeep.

“Get on,” he said, putting his hands on your waist and lifting you onto the hood of the car.

The coldness of the metal hit the backs of your legs. He climbed up and crawled behind you. He put his legs on either side of you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You rested your hands on top of his.

“Look at the sky,” he began, “don’t you always say you love looking at the night sky? Because when you look up, you feel small compared to how big it is out there?”

You nodded and Jake continued.

“Okay, now think of how big the universe is and how many people and problems there are in the world. What’s going on with us, right now? It’s nothing compared to what’s out there. There’s so much out there,” he said softly.

You turned your head to look at him. He always had a way of bringing you back down and making you feel so comfortable and safe. He felt like home.

You closed your eyes and breathed deep in his arms for a few minutes, taking in the moment.

“Jake?” you said after a while.

“Mhm?” he asked.

“Promise me that one day, we’ll see the world together. We’ll see what’s out there.”

“Promise,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

You knew he would keep that promise.

“Come on, let’s get you home before twelve,” he said as he slid himself off the hood of the car.

He extended his hands out to you and you hopped off into him. You both got in the car and Jake put one hand on the wheel and the other in your palm, pulling your hand up to his mouth every few minutes to kiss it gently.

The ride home was quiet, but comfortable. Jake pulled into your driveway at 11:58 PM. The living room light was on so you knew your parents were waiting. He walked you to the door and pulled you close before you went inside.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Night, baby,” he said quietly as he kissed your forehead.

You opened the door and smiled at him before you closed it. Jake walked back to the car and drove home silently, looking up at the stars the whole way home.

A few days later, after school, you and Jake walked through the front door of the Kiszka home with fast food bags in your hands. When you entered, you were surprised to see two people on the couch.

It was Josh and a girl in a very similar position you and Jake were caught in last week. The two of them continued at each other as you and Jake took your coats and shoes off. Neither of them realized you were even there.

“Josh, no sex on the family couch remember?” Jake said casually, causing Josh and the girl to jump up from what they were doing.

You and Jake smiled at him and then at each other as you headed for his room with the bags of fast food and two joints waiting for you in his nightstand drawer.

March 2014:

You and Jake started going out more throughout the past month. He started making just a little bit of money from the bar gigs the band was playing. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for little dinner dates, ice skating, and bowling.

Jake’s weekends also started getting busier. He would play a show on a Saturday night, not get home until 2 or 3 am on Sunday, and would sleep until noon.

Jake put all his focus on music. He had a lot of faith that his band would go far- especially now that they had Danny with them. However for every other senior in Frankenmuth, Michigan, end of the school year preparations were the focus. Spring break, prom, graduation, and college plans were the only things anyone could talk about.

You had applied to a few colleges that interested you, mostly ones close to home. Michigan State University was only an hour away and had a good program for what you wanted to do. You were sure you’d go there. However, so did NYU. You applied to both in addition to some safety schools in Michigan and Ohio.

You convinced Jake to apply to Delta Community College in Saginaw to at least try it out. He got in. But then again, everyone gets into community college. Regardless, his mom was happy to hear that he had a realistic plan for next year in case the whole “Rockstar” thing didn’t work out.

Josh applied to Michigan State too. He wanted to study film making. He got his acceptance letter last week.

You sat at home on the computer, with your eyes scanning the screen. Jake laid on your bed with his feet up on the wall, eating grapes.

“When are you gonna be done?” he asked, tilting his head back to look at you.

“In a couple seconds, I just want to check this last one.”

You had been stalking the admission sites of the schools you applied to in hopes that your application status would go from Pending to Accepted. You would even take Rejected at this point. You just wanted to know.

“Ugh, nothing yet,” you said as you closed out of the browser and shut the computer screen.

Jake got up and walked over to you in the chair. He wrapped his arms around your neck and leaned close to your ear.

“Why don’t you just wait for the letters in the mail like a normal person?” he asked with a hint of flirtation in his voice. “You know you’re gonna get in anyway.”

You sighed, “I don’t know, I just… I want to know now. Like, I just want to know what I’m doing with my life.”

Jake knelt down by your feet, looking up at you.

“Why rush it? Time is already going by too quickly. Can we just live in this moment? Here? Now?”

You bent down and wrapped your hands around his neck, resting your chin on the top of his head, “It’s scary, isn’t it? Growing up?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

He broke away from your grasp and stood up, standing behind your chair again, and looking at you through your reflection in the mirror in front of you as he spoke.

“You know what’s coming up that’s good though?” he asked.

“What?” you asked sweetly.

“My show tomorrow. And you’re gonna be there,” he sang as he nuzzled his face into your neck, tickling you with his hair.

“Yeah I’m finally gonna see you be a rockstar.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s just a little bar gig,” he laughed.

“Well, I know I’ll love it no matter what,” you said, looking at his reflection.

You turned your head and connected your lips with his.

“Oooh, do I have my first groupie?” he said as he pulled back just a bit.

“Mmm, oh my God, Jake you’re soooo hot! Play that song for me again and do me in your dressing room!” you teased him in an exaggerated voice.

You both giggled at how ridiculous the thought was.

“No really. One day I’ll have groupies. And they’ll travel from all over to come see me. And they’ll throw their bras on stage,” he laughed and shook his head. “Heh. No, I’m just kidding. But imagine if that actually happened?” he smiled wide as he thought about it.

Even though he was just joking, you knew that was what he wanted. That was the only thing he wanted. Jake was going to be a rockstar. No matter what.

When Jake left your house that afternoon, you noticed a pile of mail on the dining room table. You didn’t say anything. Jake had to get home for band practice and you didn’t want to dwell on the college stuff with him again. He had to focus on the show tomorrow.

As you closed the door behind Jake, you eyed the little green MSU logo on one of the envelopes. You decided you would open it tomorrow. Jake was right- time was going by quickly and you wanted just one more day of not thinking about the fast approaching future.

The next day, you got to the bar around 9 so the band would be able to set up. You sat at a high top table with Ronnie and Jake’s mom while the guys prepared the stage. It was just a dive bar about 30 minutes outside Frankenmuth. It was dead at this point of the night. They weren’t going on until 11 so you had a lot of time to kill. Once the stage was set up, Jake came over to you with three beers in hand.

“For my ladies,” he said, putting them on the table.

The guys played here often and the owner liked them so beer on tap was free for them. You looked across the room and saw Sam and Danny in the corner, filling up red soda cups with the beer. As two kids who clearly still looked like they were in middle school, they had to be a little more subtle about it than everyone else.

Karen only allowed them one drink before the show and one after. But you knew better than her. You once saw Sam chug vodka from a bottle Josh had hidden under his bed. Who would have thought that little nerd had it in him?

“Thank you, Sir,” you joked as you took the beer from Jake and put the glass to your lips. You took a sip and held it out to him. He grabbed the glass and took one too, handing it back to you afterwards. Jake put his arm around your waist and kissed you on the cheek.

You put the glass down and snuck your hands around his waist.

“Can we talk for a second?” you asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he said as he backed away to let you hop down off the stool.

You walked over to a quieter spot near the front entrance to the bar and held out a piece of paper to him.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Read it,” you said.

He saw the green logo at the top and then looked at you, worried. He opened the folded paper, his eyes scanned over the words, and he mumbled through the sentences quickly.

His mouth opened slightly and he let out a breath, “You got in?” he whispered.

You nodded, biting your lip and looking up at him.

“Holy shit! You got in!” he said louder.

His eyes lit up and he pulled you in by the waist and kissed you hard, you felt a small smile on his lips for the duration of the kiss.

You broke away from each other and smiled. He held you there for a minute more, just looking in your eyes. “Now you can relax, right?”

“Yeah,” you sighed happily, “I’m gonna go tell Josh,” you said excitedly as you started to part from Jake.

Jake stayed where you left him as you walked over to Josh. As you spoke, he watched Josh’s face light up when you told him the news. Josh picked you up and spun you around, and then grabbed your arms and shook you around a little.

Jake smiled bittersweetly to himself. He was happy for you and Josh. But things were changing. For someone who was always so sure of his future, he was starting to question himself.

The bar started filling with more customers as the night went on. Some were regulars who talked with the bartenders and manager. Some were people who just came for a casual drink. The Wagner family was there and Danny’s parents and sister came to sit with you guys. You all talked and laughed until it was time for the boys to come on stage.

Danny walked on first and sat down at his kit. Sam slung his bass over his head. Josh fiddled with the mic stand and wrapped the cord around his arm. Jake put his guitar on and gave it a strum, letting the audience know they were ready. You recognized the chord he played, it was the one he taught you the first time you were at his house.

“Hello, everyone,” Josh began, “We are Greta Van Fleet, and we are honored to play for you this delightful evening.”

Danny hit his sticks together in a 4 beat countdown and they began.

They captivated the crowd the second they started. Some of the regulars were used to them, but even the people who didn’t know them looked impressed. They played a few songs, all ones you recognized from sitting in at some band rehearsals. Some were theirs and some were covers of songs they loved.

“This next one is a bit new. We’re gonna slow it down a little if that’s alright with you all.” Josh stated as he pulled a stool towards the mic.

Jake took off his red electric guitar and swapped it for his acoustic one.

“It’s called ‘Flower Power,’” Josh said, motioning to Jake to begin.

Jake began to strum, looking down at the guitar. The song was cute and a little folky, which you knew was something that inspired Jake a lot.

You concentrated on the words Josh sang…

“It turns to night,

Firelight.

Star shines in her eye.

Makes me feel like I’m alive”

Then it hit you. This song. It was about you.

You looked at Jake from where you were sitting. He knew you figured it out judging by how your hand was covering your mouth. His lips were fighting back a smile. He looked down at the guitar as he played, shaking his head a little. He didn’t want to break his hard rockstar exterior and he knew if he made eye contact with you, he would lose it.

They finished up their set, took a break, and did another. Each time, they were met with a large applause at the end. Jake jumped off the stage and walked towards you. People patted him on the back as he walked by, saying “Good job, kid,” as he passed them.

“I have to go take down the stage and load up in a second. But, what did you think?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the table.

“You were amazing,” you said, grabbing his sweaty face and giving him a soft kiss. You teased your tongue at him but pulled back after tasting the salty sweat covering his upper lip.

“Yeah there was a pretty girl in the audience I wanted to impress,” he smirked.

“I bet she’s a hot groupie,” you teased him.

“Yeah, she didn’t throw her bra on stage but maybe she’ll come do me in the bathroom,” he joked.

“Shut up and go help your brothers,” you said, slapping his arm lightly.

Jake walked away and left you with Ronnie at the table.

“You guys are disgustingly cute,” she said, “I’m gonna miss you next year. I probably won’t miss Josh too much though. It’ll be nice and quiet without him.”

“Yeah it’ll be weird. But probably a little hard with all three of us being in college though.”

“All three of you?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed, head tilted to the side.

“Yeah, Jake’s going to Delta and Josh and I are going to Michigan State. But we’ll probably be home most weekends.”

“You sure about that? Jake told our parents last week that he’s not going and they can’t make him.”

Your mouth dropped open a bit, your eyes panned down to the floor, and you breathed out hard.

You looked back at Ronnie. Her lips were tucked in between her teeth. She knew saying that was probably a mistake.

“He didn’t tell you,” she concluded.

You shook your head and got up, “Ronnie, I- I’ll talk to you later.”

You walked out the back door of the bar and watched Jake load the last amp into the van and shut the van’s back door. It was raining slightly and he was about to walk back inside but stopped after seeing you in the doorway.

“Hey, ready to go?” he asked.

You looked at him, expressionless.

“Are you okay-”

“When were you going to tell me?” you cut him off and crossed your arms.

The rain started getting heavier. You both stood there, letting it fall on you. It was almost refreshing after being in the hot, sweaty bar for the past few hours.

“Tell you what?”

“That you weren’t going to college?”

Jake rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Let me guess, Ronnie told you? It’s really not a big deal, I don’t even need it anyway.”

“Not even to fall back on?”

“What do you mean ‘fall back on?’ What, you don’t believe in me?”

“Jake, I never said that.”

“Well it’s obvious you’re thinking it. Tell me the truth, Baby,” he replied harshly.

You sighed and dropped your arms to your sides, “Jake, I love you but this band thing- you really think it’s going to go anywhere? At some point you have to be realistic.”

He got loud, “I am being realistic! I’m not smart like Sam! I’m not creative like Josh! I’m stup-”

“You’re Jake,” you assured him, calmly, stepping towards him, “That’s all you need to be.”

You grabbed him around the waist and pulled him in. The rain caused his hair to stick together in wet clumps. His t-shirt turned a darker color with the water it had soaked up.

His expression changed. His eyes softened. His shoulders dropped and he looked down to the ground. You’ve never seen him sad before. He looked absolutely defeated.

“Since when is being Jake something to brag about?” he sighed and rolled his eyes.

You grabbed his chin with your hands and moved his face towards yours. The rain fell in between your faces, making it hard for you to see him clearly.

“Look at me, Jacob,” you said sternly with his chin in your hand, moving it up a little. He wouldn’t look you in the eye until you forced him.

His eyes moved to meet yours. Rain droplets caught on his eyelashes, hiding the fact that tears were forming in his eyes. He was breathing out through his nose hard and his lips were quivering.

You let go of his chin and held onto his face lightly with your palm.

“Jake, I’ve never met anyone like you. The way you play guitar? You’re good. You’re more than good, you’re amazing. So yeah, Sam is smart. Josh is creative. But you? Jake, you’re talented.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t going anywhere,” he mumbled.

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment.

“You know what I mean. Just promise me you won’t get your hopes up. Not everyone makes it. I’m not saying I don’t believe in you. I’m just saying-”

“I know,” he interjected, “I know.”

Jake had wanted this for as long as he could remember. This was all he ever wanted. Music was all he knew. But as he felt his childhood slipping away and real life sneaking up behind him, he could see his dreams getting farther out of reach.

You pulled him into a hug and held onto him for an extra minute out there with your head on his shoulder. Neither of you cared that you were in the rain. You pulled your head back and kissed him gently on the lips. He pulled his hands from behind you and brought them to your face, wiping away the mascara that was running down your cheeks.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” you replied, “but, no more secrets.”

He nodded, “No more secrets. Now, come on, let’s get out of here. It’s 2 in the morning.”

Jake let go of you and led you back inside. You opened the door to see the rest of the group ready to go.

Josh and Sam hopped on either side of you, linking their arms with yours. Danny followed close behind, holding onto your shoulders.

“So,” Sam began, “What did you think? Am I your favorite?”

“It was amazing. But I’m sorry, Sam, I have a favorite already. You come in at a close second though. If only you were a little older,” you teased.

“How do you feel about twins?” Josh asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

Jake pushed through them, wrapped his arm around your waist, and pulled you out of their hold.

“Okay, enough! She’s my groupie and I’m not sharing!” he announced, placing a dramatic kiss on your cheek with a “mwah” sound.

“I actually have a question for Josh,” you stated, smirking.

“Are you considering the twin thing?” he asked, jokingly.

“No,” you said with a laugh. “I just want to know… Who the hell is ‘Mama?’”

Sam and Danny threw their heads back and laughed obnoxiously.

“Ohhhh Mamaaaa!” they both sang out in unison.

Jake pushed his body into yours playfully and looked at Josh, biting his bottom lip, waiting for his response.

“The world may never know!” Josh said mysteriously as he ran out the front door of the bar, into the rain, and dove into the backseat of the white Jeep.

Jake drove you home with Josh in the backseat, rambling on about something neither you nor Jake really understood. It was something about getting sick from being out in the cold and rain. You just smiled, nodded, and gave him the occasional “Mhmm.”

When you got home, you went to your room and saw a large envelope on your bed that read “New York University.” You knew what that meant. Everyone knew what that meant. You opened the envelope with shaking hands.

You read, “Congratulations! You have been admitted to New York University for the Fall 2014 semester.”

Fuck.

When Jake got home, Sam was already asleep and Josh ran into the shower. Jake paced around his room. He looked at the film posters and sketches Josh had taped all over his wall. He picked up the papers off of Josh’s shelf.

He read, “Mr. Joshua Kiszka, Congratulations! You have been admitted to Michigan State University for the Fall 2014 semester.”

He put down the letter and looked over at Sam sleeping and looked up the wall just above his head. Awards and certificates from robotics club, junior debate team, and honor roll were lined up one after the other. He sighed.

He looked over at his guitar sitting on his bed and smiled.

“Fuck college. I’m talented. I’m gonna make it,” he paused, “one day.”

April 2014:

Spring was finally here. All the snow had melted, little leaf buds were poking out of the tree branches, and the sun was shining warm for the first time in what felt like forever.

You and Jake decided you were going to make the best of the warm weather. Jake’s favorite thing to do was to take you on hikes. He fit in perfectly with nature. He knew all these secret places in town with paths, hills, and cliffsides that he explored with you.

He would pick up frogs, take his shoes off and walk through creeks with you on his back, and feed deer that came close enough to him. One day, you were walking in the woods far behind his house. Jake was in front of you, in search of something that he wanted to show you. Once you walked far enough, you came to a huge boulder the size of a car.

“Here it is!” he said, looking back at you.

“A giant rock?” you asked, laughing.

“No! Well, yeah,” he laughed. “But it’s not just any rock. This one is special,” he said.

It was as tall as he was, maybe a little taller. He expertly climbed up to the top of it and held his hand out for you to follow him. You used his hand to pull you up and then you both sat down on top of it with your legs dangling off the edge. Even though it was spring, the surface of the rock was still cold and you felt the chill of it through your jeans.

“What’s so special about this rock?” you asked playfully.

“A lot of firsts happened here,” he began, counting on his fingers, “First time I punched Josh in the face, first time I threw up drunk,” he laughed and paused for a second, “first kiss.”

“Ooh first kiss?” you teased, pushing him a little.

“Mhmm, Madison Carter, seventh grade.”

“You kissed Madison Carter?” you asked, kind of shocked at his choice of girl. She was not Jake’s ‘type’ at all. She was the definition of a stereotypical, mean, popular girl.

“Are you jealous?” he teased, stretching the word while flashing you that full toothed smile and wide eyes.

“Is Madison Carter here with you now?” you asked, your voice going up an octave with the question.

“No…” he said slowly.

“Then no. I’m not jealous,” you stated matter of factly, “I know I could kiss you better than her anyway.”

“Yeah?” he raised his eyebrows, “prove it.”

Slowly, you leaned your head closer to his and watched him close his eyes in anticipation. You closed the gap between the two of you, connecting your lips to his. He snaked his hand around your waist and pulled you closer. You grabbed the back of his neck and bit down on his bottom lip lightly, holding onto it with your teeth. You pulled your head away to break from him, while still holding his bottom lip in between your teeth. After a few seconds, you let go and watched his lip fall back into place as he opened his eyes.

His mouth hung open for a second and he looked shocked. Almost as if he couldn’t believe you just did that to him. His shocked expression faded into a smile as he spoke.

“Eh, I guess that was a little better,” he teased.

You turned your body to face him, sat criss crossed, and rested your hands on his thigh.

“So, what’s the ‘first’ that’s happening right now?” You asked.

“I’m with my first love,” he said as a satisfied smile spread across his face.

You looked down and smiled. When you looked back up, his expression was serious. He looked at you and his soft, tired eyes had the most loving look in them. You looked deep into them. The sunlight highlighted the caramel and gold colors which bursted out of the chocolate brown base of his irises.

He picked your hands up off his lap and planted kisses to your knuckles.

He lowered them down and continued, “It’s also a last, though,” he sighed, “My last day of being seventeen.”

You brushed the hair out of his eyes and dragged your hand down his cheek, rubbing the top of his cheekbone with your thumb.

“Bittersweet, huh?” you asked quietly.

He nodded and started to get up, brushing off the back of his jeans with his hands as he stood.

“But! I get my license tomorrow. I mean, if it all goes well, ya know?”

Jake stood up on the rock and looked down at the ground below him. Quickly, he flung himself off it and landed on his feet with a thud. He turned around to face you and waved for you to jump.

“Jake I am not jumping off this,” you warned.

“Baby, come on, it’s not even that high off the ground. This is a spot for first times! Jump!”

You shook your head at him quickly and smiled, biting your bottom lip.

“Would you like this to be the first time I break a bone?” you asked, jokingly but also seriously.

“Here, I’ll catch you,” he said, taking a step closer and extending his arms out.

You stood up slowly, closed your eyes, and breathed out hard. You bent your legs, swung your arms back a little, and pushed your feet off the rock, jumping down to Jake below you.

Your body crashed into his. You felt his arms grab you tight around your back. His legs stumbled with the force of you crashing into him. He fell backwards onto the ground with you on top of him. Both of you laughed as you hit the ground.

“I thought you said you would catch me!” You teased him.

“I did, didn’t I?” He laughed as his shoulders moved up and down and his whole body shook from laughing. His eyes squinted into two little crescent moons.

You sat up, straddled his waist, and leaned down to kiss him gently.

He broke away from you and smiled, placing his head back down on the ground.

“You know, we’re sitting in the exact spot I threw up in,” he giggled.

“You’re absolutely disgusting,” you laughed as you crawled off him and extended your hand to lift him to his feet.

Together you walked back to civilization with him leading the way.

Jake didn’t know it then, but there was also another last that day. It was the last time he would ever go back to that spot.

April 23, 2014:

It was Jake’s 18th birthday. You were getting ready to go to the Kiszka’s house to celebrate Jake and Josh’s big day when the doorbell rang. You went downstairs and opened the door to see Jake standing there with a huge smile on his face.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, in shock, practically forgetting it was his birthday.

His eyes squinted as he flashed a little white card in between his fingers.

“Is that what I think it is?” You asked suspiciously.

“Fuck yeah! I’m legal, baby!” He said, picking you up and spinning you around.

He planted a deep kiss on your lips while lifting you up.

“Happy birthday, Baby,” you giggled as he held you in the air, holding you under your butt.

He scrunched up his nose as you sprinkled his face with a bunch of tiny kisses.

He put you down and put his freshly earned license in his wallet.

“Come on, go pack a bag. We’re going on a trip.”

“What?” You asked.

“You heard me, we’re going on a trip,” he repeated.

“Where?”

“So many questions!” he joked. “Get upstairs, go!”

He smacked your ass lightly before turning you around by the shoulders and gently pushing you back into your house.

He followed you up the stairs, down the hallway, and towards your room. Before you entered, you turned to him.

“Wait here for a second,” you said, sliding into the room and closing the door behind you.

“Are you hiding my present?” he asked from the other side of the door. He sounded like a little kid on Christmas waiting for Santa.

“Maybe,” you flirted.

You slid his present into your backpack carefully and slid the NYU acceptance paperwork into your desk drawer. You hadn’t brought it up to him yet. You planned to tell him after his birthday, when the time was right.

You opened the door back up to see Jake leaning against the hallway wall, arms folded, eyes closed, and a small smile spread across his face. You smiled at him and shook your head.

“Get in here,” you said as you grabbed his wrist, and pulled him out of his trance and into your room.

Jake still wouldn’t tell you where you were going or how long you were going for. You held stuff up to him and he would either say “yes” or “no” depending on if he thought you would need it or not. As he gave you his approval of things, you put them in your backpack.

You held up a black bra and a matching thong, raising your eyebrows at him. You placed them on your bed in front of him. You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard.

You spoke slowly and ran your fingers over the lace details of the pieces, “Do you think I-”

“Yeah you need those. You definitely need those,” he said as he nodded his head quickly with his eyes wide.

You giggled, put the set in your backpack, and looked back at him. He was looking down and you caught a glimpse of that little nervous smile on his face.

After a few more approvals and disapprovals of things, he said, “Okay that’s good. Let’s go.”

It looked to be enough stuff for just a day or two. You went to the bathroom to get your toothbrush and some other toiletries. Jake leaned against the doorframe, impatiently tapping his fingers on the wall as you carefully put the items into the front pocket of your backpack.

When you were done, you went downstairs to explain to your mom what was going on and somehow, she already knew, giving Jake a wink from across the room.

“Did you…” you began.

“Why do you think I told you to get your laundry done yesterday?” she asked, smirking.

You said goodbye to her and Jake led you back to the Jeep in your driveway. He opened the passenger side door for you to get in and took your backpack and placed it in the backseat. You turned back to look at him as he moved things around back there, giving you a peek at a large case of beer that was covered with a blanket and smiling mischievously at you.

“Since when can 18 year olds buy beer?” you asked, jokingly.

“I’m 22 according to the state of Georgia,” he said as he closed the back door and opened the front.

He got in the driver’s seat, put the car in gear, and slowly backed out of the driveway.

After a few minutes, you saw the AUF WIEDERSEHEN sign which indicated you were leaving town. Now that he had his license, he could go anywhere he wanted.

Today was his 18th birthday. He could be doing anything right now. He could be spending the day with his family- and his twin brother. But here he was, spending it with you.

Part of you felt like you didn’t deserve him. You tried not to think about the secret you were holding from him. Especially when just last month you made him promise he wouldn’t keep any secrets from you. But you put those thoughts in the back of your mind for the time being.

Jake drove on the highway for a while, holding your leg with his right hand the entire time like he always did and tapping his fingers on it to the music on the radio.

“Do you want me to tell you where we’re going now?” he asked as he gave your leg a squeeze.

“Ugh finally! Yes, please,” you practically begged.

You turned your body to face him, and his eyes never left the road as he spoke.

“So, my family has this cabin up by Lake Huron. We go every summer for a few weeks. I’ve been wanting to take you there for ages but my mom said I had to have my license first. So now that I do, I can finally take you,” he said happily.

“You could be doing anything in the world today and you’re spending the day with me?” You asked, sounding a little guilty. “What about Josh? And your parents?”

“Baby, I have spent every second of the last eighteen years with Josh. I can’t remember a single day I spent without him. I need a break from him. Besides, my parents knew I would be leaving today so we did something last night,” he assured you.

Jake opened all the windows to the car and the fresh air blasted through, blowing wind through your hair. You felt a sudden burst of freedom you had never felt before. You and Jake were both officially adults. It felt weird. But it felt good.

He extended his left arm out the window and let out the happiest “Ahhh” you had ever heard. There was pure joy behind it. Like he felt completely at ease and at peace for the first time in a long time.

After an hour or so, Jake steered off the highway and through winding back roads with cute little cabins and cottages staggered throughout the wooded area. He turned into a gravel driveway and looked over at you as he put the car in park.

“This is it!” he said excitedly.

It was a typical Michigan lake cabin. A two story house with wood siding, a front porch, and slightly overgrown trees and bushes covering the yard and blocking most of the windows.

He jumped out of his side of the car and ran over to you, opening the passenger door and extending his hand to you. You hopped out onto the gravel driveway and he led you up the stairs and towards the front door.

He jiggled the key in the lock and when he opened it, he bent down to pick you up. He grabbed the back of your legs and placed his other arm around your back. You held your hands around his neck and he kicked the door open, walking with you in his arms through the doorway, giggling.

The walls were covered with wood paneling, framed paintings of nature scenes, and a staircase leading up to a balcony which looked down on the living room and kitchen. It was exactly what you pictured.

Jake carried you upstairs into the master bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and you laid back, resting on your elbows. He looked down at you with love in his eyes and bit his bottom lip.

“C’mere,” you whispered.

Slowly, he came closer to you. Lowering himself on top of you and placing soft kisses all over your face. You connected your lips with his and kissed him hard. He teased his tongue against your bottom lip and you let him in. You repeated the action to him. He pulled away from your lips and attached his to your neck. His lips were wet, and warm on the sensitive skin of your neck. His movements gave your whole body goosebumps. The combination of him sucking, biting, and smoothing his tongue over the slightly bruised spots sent you into another world.

“Mmm, Jake,” you moaned.

“Yeah, you like that?” he asked, as his voice vibrated against your neck, making you giggle.

He continued at you like that for a few minutes. Both of you started teasing each other, tugging at clothes, and wandering hands up and down each other’s bodies, wanting more and seeing how far the other person would take things.

Finally, you moved your neck and pushed his face away. He looked down at you with those soft, tired eyes again.

“You okay?” he breathed out, looking deep into your eyes with concern.

“Yeah, just let me look at you for a second,” you whispered, cupping his face in your hand and rubbing his cheek with your thumb.

You wanted to get a good look at him. Something inside you told you to remember this moment. Your eyes scanned his face. He was different since the first time you kissed him. His face had less baby fat on it, making his jaw sharper. The acne that was once on his forehead had faded away. His hair was longer and straighter. His cheeks and chin were rougher with more facial hair poking through. He had little brown dots just above his lip from where he had recently shaved.

For the first time, you saw him as a man.

“You’re beautiful,” you said, almost in a whisper.

Jake smiled.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you,” he replied as he placed the most delicate kiss on your lips.

“But,” he said, “we can't do this here. I’m pretty sure Sam was conceived in this bed.”

He had a look of disgust on his face and he looked down before continuing, “Actually, Josh and I probably were too now that I think about it.”

“Ew,” you laughed as you started to sit up.

Jake sat up and shook his hair out, regaining his composure after those past few heated minutes and his little epiphany. You sat up and grabbed his hands and pulled them into your lap.

“Do you want your present now?” you asked with your eyes glimmering.

“Okay!” he said happily.

You slid off the bed, bent over with your back facing him, and dug into your backpack.

“Close your eyes,” you said flirtatiously.

“But I like this view,” he teased.

You turned your head around and gave him a “really?” kind of look.

Jake reluctantly closed his eyes and you turned around with the wrapped gift. You placed it in his lap and allowed him to open his eyes.

“Oooh,” he said, looking at the gift and looking at you. Judging by the shape, it was obvious that it was a vinyl record.

He ripped off the paper and his eyes widened.

“No way! Where the hell did you find this? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!”

“I got a little help from a certain little brother of yours,” you laughed.

He laughed, shook his head, and looked down at it like it was made of gold.

“Stephen Stills, the first one,” he breathed out, shocked.

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it? Baby, one of the best songs of all time is on this album.”

All you could do was stare at him and smile. He had a glow in his eyes. You recognized that glow anywhere because it was the same look in his eyes that he had every time he looked at you.

“I love it, thank you,” he said, looking up at you and pushing his lips out for you to kiss him.

You spent the afternoon and early part of the evening exploring outside with him. He took you places he explored with his siblings as a kid. And of course, he showed you yet another place where he cracked his head open.

You sat on a hilltop and watched the sunset in his arms. He held you tight and hummed songs in your ear as the two of you watched the sky change from blue, to orange, to black.

You felt completely safe in his arms. No matter where you were, when you were with him, you were home.

You walked back to the cabin in the moonlight. When you got back, Jake ordered a pizza while you showered; and then he showered himself. While he was upstairs, you found an unopened bottle of wine and glasses in a cabinet. You took out two and poured some of the dark burgundy liquid in each.

He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. His hair was damp and he was wearing plaid pajama pants and a forest green t-shirt. The shoulders of the shirt were sprinkled with little drops of water that fell from his hair.

“Ooh, what’s this for?” He asked as he spotted the glasses on the kitchen counter.

“You, birthday boy,” you said, approaching him and pulling him in for a kiss.

He held your waist and leaned back, looking at you up and down.

All you had on was a big white t-shirt with a little black “Greta Van Fleet” logo in the top corner. The shirt was just see through enough for him to know what you were wearing underneath- the black lace set you held up for him in your room earlier.

“Mmm, happy birthday to me,” he said as he licked his lips.

He reached for the glasses, handing you one. You clinked them together and each took a sip.

He gasped quietly and whispered, “The record!”

He pulled away, ran up the stairs, and came back down with it in his hands. He was skipping around a little bit as he walked over to the record player. You could tell he was excited. He took it out of the casing and held the sides with his fingertips delicately. He placed it on the turntable and set the needle on it carefully.

The beginning of the first song of the album filled the air. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and smiled. He was in heaven.

He moved his head along with the song and walked over to you slowly. He extended his hand and leaned back on one foot.

“Dance with me,” he said.

You took his hand and he pulled you towards him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek and then spun you around. He pulled you back in and sang in your ear as he rocked you back and forth,

“There’s a rose in the fisted glove

And the eagle flies with the dove

And if you can’t be with the one you love, honey

Love the one you’re with, love the one you’re with.”

You spun out of his arms and faced him. You grabbed his hands in yours as he continued to sing. He closed his eyes and smiled the biggest smile you’ve ever seen from him.

He started singing louder and he swayed back and forth, holding onto your hands lightly, spinning you around the kitchen as the song continued.

“Don’t be angry, don’t be sad

Don’t sit crying over good times you’ve had,”

He let go of your hands and pointed at you.

“There’s a girl right next to you,

And she’s just waiting for something to do.”

You giggled and shook your head at how silly he was being. He looked absolutely adorable.

Jake spun himself around on his feet and ran back to you to scoop you up again. You held him around his back and put your head on his chest. You rocked back and forth with him again as the song carried on.

He picked you up by the waist and put you on the counter. You wrapped your legs around him.

“Love the one you’re with

Love the one you’re with

Love the one you’re with,”

you both sang out, kissing each other between each line.

As the song ended and as the next one began, Jake pulled you off the countertop and into a deep hug. You rested your head on his shoulder and he rubbed your back.

“I absolutely love you,” he said, “you’re my forever, you know that?”

You looked at him. His eyes were filled with happiness and love.

“Forever?” You asked.

“Forever,” he repeated.

He kissed your forehead lovingly and held you there for a few more minutes until the pizza arrived.

The both of you listened to the rest of the record as you ate. He explained which songs were his favorites and why. You could listen to him talk about music all day. He had such deep thoughts about it. You never thought about music this way, until he came along. He showed you that music should make you feel something. It should spark something inside of you in a way nothing else ever could. It should set your soul free and make you feel at home.

You and Jake drank a lot of beer that night, stayed up late giggling and messing around, and ended up falling asleep in the early morning hours on the couch with the fireplace going.

You spent all of the next day together out in nature and in the little downtown area you stayed near, and then drove home at night.

Jake took you home and when he got home, he showed the record to his siblings.

“I tried getting this like a month ago on Ebay but someone outbid me,” he explained to Sam.

“Hmm, I wonder who that was?” Sam chuckled.

“She didn’t…” he said.

“She did,” Sam replied, smiling.

Jake fell back on his bed, laughing to himself. He was absolutely, utterly, and completely in love and everyone around him knew it.

Sam got up off his bed to leave Jake alone in his own world and before he left completely, he turned to Jake and said, “Stephen Stills 2 is better though,” with a huge smirk on his face.

May 2014:

Senior year was coming to an end. There were just two months left of school and the kids and teachers had all given up. Each afternoon was dedicated to figuring out details for prom and graduation.

You knew you were going to prom with Jake. He didn’t even have to ask you. It was obvious.

You got to his house when the school day was over to spend the afternoon together. It was a Friday so your parents allowed you to stay there later. They were also okay with you occasionally sleeping at Jake’s house on weekends if it was too late at night for him to drive you back.

Jake opened the door and the two of you walked into the kitchen to get something to eat.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, walking down the hallway to his room. You heard the door close and open a minute later and the sound of his footsteps got louder as he approached the kitchen again.

His hands were behind his back and he was breathing heavily.

“What are you doing?” You laughed as you opened a jar of cookies.

“I want to ask you something,” he replied nervously.

“You’re scaring me, Jake,” you said.

He pulled his hands from behind his back, holding a bouquet of a dozen red roses out to you.

“Y/N,” he began, “Will you go to prom with me?” He asked, biting his lip.

You took the bouquet in your hands and looked at it. Each rose was perfectly blossomed and accompanied by tiny little babies breath flowers and green leaves. You smiled brightly back at him and looked down at the bouquet, admiring it for a moment. You looked back up at him to see that his face was still full of worry.

“Eh, I’m gonna have to think about it,” you joked.

“Shut up!” he laughed.

Holding the roses, you crossed your hands behind his back and pulled him in.

“Of course I’ll go to prom with you,” you said, connecting your lips with his in a deep kiss.

He grabbed the back of your neck and continued kissing you, humming into your mouth and going for more of you until you heard a coughing sound from in the doorway.

It was Josh standing there. He made a gagging noise, walked over to you and Jake, pushed between the two of you, and hopped up on the counter, taking the jar of cookies in his lap.

You put the bouquet of flowers down on the counter. Josh handed you a cookie and threw one at Jake.

“So prom?” he asked, “are you guys officially going together, or did she say no?” he joked.

“Judging by what you just walked in on, I think you can assume she said yes,” Jake stated.

Josh nodded approvingly.

“Are you going with anyone, Josh?” you asked.

“Kind of,” he shrugged, “the drama kids are all going as a group. We rented a lake house for the weekend after if you guys want to come.”

Jake grabbed another cookie out of the jar and bit a piece off, talking with a piece of the cookie in his mouth.

“No offense, Joshua, but spending prom weekend with a bunch of drunk theater kids isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Jake laughed.

You smiled at him and held back your laughter.

“It’ll be fun but suit yourself!” Josh said as he jumped off the countertop and skipped out the room with his footsteps fading as he went down the hallway.

You heard the boys’ bedroom door shut and Jake grabbed you by the waist, closing the gap between you previously made by Josh.

“Mmm, get over here,” he said, connecting your lips to his again, softly. You tasted the sweet flavor of chocolate on his lips.

You pulled back. His hands were connected behind your back and yours ran up and down his chest.

“So what exactly do you have in mind for prom weekend?” you asked, as you moved your hands down to his stomach.

“I don’t know yet,” he said, “But I know I’m gonna be with you. That’s all I need to know right now.”

“Well, I might have something in mind,” you said quietly, looking down, and playing with the bottom of his t-shirt.

He lifted your chin up to look at him. His eyes squinted a little, like he was trying to read your face for an answer to an unspoken question. You didn’t have to say anything. He knew what you were thinking.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re-”

“Ready?” you interrupted.

He nodded.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

Jake breathed in sharply and held it in for a second. Even though he knew it was coming, he was still a little stunned.

He breathed out slowly and let go of your chin. He put both his hands on your face with his thumbs resting on your cheeks, and looked into your eyes.

“You’re sure?” he whispered.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” you replied.

Jake swallowed hard. His eyes darted all over your face and his mouth opened a little. He didn’t know what to say. He always had a smooth comeback of something to say. But this time, he didn’t. He was speechless. You knew his thoughts were racing.

“Jake, say something,” you practically begged.

Before you knew it, his lips crashed into yours. He kissed you hard and passionately. The kiss was unlike any other you’d ever experienced before. It was rough and needy. It sent shivers down your spine and made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He was going at you hungrily. You started laughing and broke away from him.

“Jesus, Jake! I didn’t mean right now!” you joked.

He laughed to himself, realizing he got carried away.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, still laughing.

He let you go and leaned against the counter next to you. He popped another cookie into his mouth and chewed, looking at you with a stupid smile on his face as his jaw moved up and down.

You slapped him lightly across his chest.

“What?” you asked, giggling.

“Nothing!” he laughed, “I just love you, that’s all.”

You kissed the tip of his nose, “Mhm, love you too. Now, come on.”

You grabbed the jar of cookies and he followed you out of the kitchen and onto the couch. You sat down and he threw himself down next to you. He grabbed your legs and pulled them onto his lap. He rubbed up and down your thighs before digging his hand into the jar again.

“You know this is so cliche right? Losing our virginities on prom night?” he joked.

“Keep talking and I’ll make you wait longer,” you warned him playfully.

He closed his mouth tightly and looked at you through the corners of his eyes, holding back laughter. He put another cookie into his mouth and fought back a smile as he chewed.

“How many of these are you going to eat?” you laughed.

“You’re right, I should stop. I have to watch my figure,” he teased, “You’re gonna see me naked soon.”

Prom Night:

You sat at your desk, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The bouquet of roses Jake gave you was sitting in a vase of water on your desk next to you. They had been slowly dying but you kept them anyway.

Once you finished, you carefully put on your dress. It was a deep burgundy color that had sequin embellishments on the top half, a sweetheart neckline, and straps that rested just off your shoulders. It hugged your hips and flared out a little at the bottom perfectly. You ran your hands down your body, looked at yourself in the mirror and took a deep breath. Tonight was the night. You were ready. There was no doubt in your mind.

You mom knocked on the door and poked her head through to tell you Jake had arrived. You gave yourself one last look of approval, and went to meet him.

As you got to the top of the stairs, you looked down and saw him standing there, talking to your parents. He was wearing a sharp black suit with a burgundy tie to match your dress. In his hand, he held a corsage. His hair was long and covered his forehead and the sides of his face. You had never seen him dressed up before. He looked perfect.

Jake turned his head and looked up the stairs, smiling. The second he saw you, the smile he had faded and his mouth opened. His eyes never left yours as he watched you walk down the stairs. When you got to the bottom, he walked over to you and put his hand on your waist and moved it to rest on your lower back.

“You look,” he paused for a second, “absolutely beautiful.”

You smiled and looked up at him, “Thank you. You look handsome.”

He gave you a light kiss and pulled away to take the corsage out of the box and put it on your wrist, a burgundy rose with black ribbons and dark green leaves. You pinned a matching boutonniere to his suit jacket.

You took pictures and your parents hugged you goodbye. They knew you’d be staying with Jake for the night.

Jake escorted you out to the car and opened the door for you. He helped you get in and leaned in to kiss you deeper, now that your parents weren’t watching. He stopped and put his hands on the seat, both hands rested on either side of your legs.

“Seriously,” he began, “you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You took a second to take in the word he used. Woman.

His eyes scanned your face and he shook his head as a smile crept on his face. It was almost like he couldn’t believe what he was looking at.

The sunset in the distance highlighted the red undertones in his hair and made his eyes sparkle. His skin had a slight tan from him being outside recently. But other than that, something about him was different. He had a confidence about himself you’d never seen in him before.

Jake got in the driver’s side and held out his hand for you to hold. You took it and he brought it to his mouth and kissed it. He rubbed the top with his thumb as he drove.

When you got to the venue, you met up with Josh and the rest of your friends. Josh was wearing a similar black suit to Jake’s, but with lavender details to match one of his friends.

“You look radiant,” Josh said as he hugged you.

“Aw thank you! You look so handsome, Joshua,” you replied sweetly.

“Save a dance for me,” he said as he winked at you and walked back over to his friends.

You and Jake had a night straight out of a fairytale. You danced with friends and each other the entire time. And of course, you saved a dance for Josh, who you later found out was pretty tipsy from taking shots in the bathroom. Those theater kids really were wild.

About halfway through the night, you and Jake went outside to get some air. You looked out at the field behind the venue. The sky was filled with what looked to be millions of stars. The moon was full and bright.

Jake turned you around to face the sky. He held you from behind and rested his head on your shoulder. You rested your hands on top of his and tilted your head back onto him.

“Can I just hold you for a second?” he asked.

You nodded, closed your eyes, and breathed in deep with him.

Jake was taking in the last few moments of innocence he had left. He knew after tonight, things would be different. Things would never be this pure and sweet again. He was saying goodbye to the last part of his childhood. He was about to cross the threshold into becoming a man. He was nervous. But he was ready.

He closed his eyes and smiled into your neck, kissing it gently and tickling you with his hair. You pulled away and turned around, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. He held your waist and led you back inside to finish the night.

When the prom had ended, you said bye to Josh and your friends. Josh kissed you on the cheek and wished you a good night. Jake and Josh hugged tight and did that twin thing they do where they spoke without really saying any words.

You and Jake walked back to his car hand in hand. He stopped you before you got in, placing his hands on your waist and giving you the softest kiss on the lips.

“I had the most amazing time with you tonight,” you said.

“Yeah, me too,” he smiled, biting his lip, “you ready to go home?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you said quietly, nodding your head.

The drive back to Jake’s house was quiet. You both knew why. He was breathing deep in the driver’s seat, his hands were shaking as he held the steering wheel. There was a reason he wasn’t holding your hands or your leg like he normally would. He was nervous and one thing Jake didn’t do well was hide nerves. He got quiet, jittery, and zoned out a little.

Jake pulled into the empty driveway of the dark house. Only the front door light was on. Sam was at Danny’s house and his parents took Ronnie to visit his grandparents for the weekend. They knew Josh would be away and figured you and Jake would want to be alone anyway.

When you entered the house, it felt like the time he snuck you in, in November. Back then, you were a little nervous. But this time, your heart was pounding and adrenaline was running through your veins like never before. What started as an innocent kiss in his garage had turned into something much bigger than the two of you.

Jake closed the front door behind you and pushed you against it softly as he kissed you. You grabbed the back of his neck and deepened the kiss. You pushed him back a little and saw his eyes still closed, lips wet, and a hint of a smile forming. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly, like he was in a dream.

“Come on,” he whispered.

He grabbed both your hands and pulled you off the door and down the hallway towards his room. You both walked in and he closed the door. He took a deep breath in through his nose and let it back out through his mouth.

The moonlight was coming through the window, shining on his bed.

You stood in the middle of the room and took off your jewelry, placing it carefully on Josh’s bed. The only piece you kept on was the necklace Jake gave you for Christmas.

Jake walked over to you, took his tie off, and tossed it next to your jewelry. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of the white shirt he had on and pulled you close to him, resting his hands on your waist.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, looking deep into your eyes.

“I want to give you something no one else can have,” you whispered.

A small smile appeared on his face and then his expression changed back to being serious as he spoke.

“You tell me if you want me to stop, or if I’m hurting you, okay?”

“Okay,” you assured him.

“You trust me?”

“I trust you,” you confirmed.

“I love you,” he said softly.

“I love you too, Jake.”

Jake took his time with you. He was gentle, sweet, and loving. He was everything you could have asked him to be. You knew he was nervous, but he wanted this to be perfect for you. And it was. It was absolutely perfect. He put all of his anxiety behind him to make sure you were comfortable. He had wanted this for longer than you had and he still made it all about you.

You laid there next to him with your head on his chest and your legs tangled in his. His breathing slowed down and his heartbeat went back to normal. He rubbed your back and swirled his fingers along your spine. You looked up at him. The moonlight was shining on his face, highlighting his cheekbones and casting shadows over his eyes. The sweat on his face glistened in the faint white light coming through the window.

You sat up a little and reached your hand out to wipe his hair out of his face. The sweat on his forehead caused his hair to curl up just a bit. His eyes were calm and soft. The faintest smile spread across his face as he looked down at you. He was absolutely glowing.

“Thank you,” you whispered, rubbing your thumb over his cheek bone.

He lifted your chin with his knuckle and kissed your forehead.

“I love you more than ever,” he said quietly.

You didn’t reply but he didn’t need you to. He knew you loved him more than ever too.

You thought you loved him that day in the snow. You thought you loved him when he took you to the cliffside and you watched the stars. You thought you loved him when he danced around the kitchen to his favorite song. But at that moment, after giving him the last of yourself, you loved him more than you would ever love him or anyone else.

“Go to sleep, Baby,” he whispered, putting your head back down on his chest and rubbing your back again.

You fell asleep that night to the sound of his heartbeat and the rising and falling of his chest underneath you.

You woke up the next morning with Jake’s leg on top of yours,his face nuzzled into your neck, and his arm wrapped around your stomach. The hairs on his legs tickled yours and the sounds of his light snoring made you giggle. You cuddled yourself against him and closed your eyes for a few more moments, taking it all in. You smelled Jake’s cologne on the pillow, which made your heart flutter with memories.

You pulled yourself out of his grasp a bit to sit up on your elbow and look around. The events of last night replayed in your mind after looking at the pile of accessories on Josh’s bed, your dress on the floor, pieces of Jake’s suit thrown around the room, and a little silver wrapper on the nightstand. You turned your head back to look at him and smiled.

The whole “afterglow” thing was real and you could see it on Jake. The morning sun was shining on him through the window. The olive tones of his tan were coming through, and just a hint of pink appeared on his cheeks. His mouth was open slightly and his lips were a little swollen. He looked so peaceful. You brushed the hair out of his eyes and kissed his cheek.

He raised his eyebrows, took a deep breath in, and blinked a few times. Smiling and letting out a sigh when he realized you were next to him.

“Mmm, good morning,” he said in a deep, morning voice.

“Morning,” you replied sweetly.

He let out a hum and pulled you closer to him, tightening his hold. He kissed the side of your face and down your neck a little, softly.

“Sleep well last night?” he spoke into your neck.

“Mhmm,” you replied.

You and Jake laid there in a daze for what felt like just minutes even though it was closer to an hour. You could tell from his breathing that he fell back asleep briefly. When he woke back up, he sat up and scooted to the foot of his bed, pulling on a pair of underwear and kneeling at his nightstand drawer. He pulled out a shirt and a pair of boxers and handed them to you.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing your forehead, sneaking out of the room, and closing the door behind him.

You put on his clothes, laid back down in his bed, and breathed in his scent on the pillow. He knocked softly on the door and opened it. He walked over to you with two cups of coffee. You sat up and he handed you one.

“I put extra sugar in yours,” he said.

“Thank you, Baby,” you replied, smiling at him.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and took a sip.

“So,” he began, “did you have fun last night?” He asked suggestively, giving you a playful smirk.

You giggled, “Shut up.”

He let out a laugh through his nose and looked at you softly. His expression turned more serious before he spoke again, “You okay?” he asked quietly.

“I have never been better,” you assured him.

“Good,” he whispered back, kissing your cheek.

You scooted over, he crawled into the bed next to you, and both of you leaned against the headboard and continued to drink the coffee as you talked for a little.

“Could you tell?” he asked.

“Tell what?”

“Tell how fucking nervous I was?” He laughed.

“From your hands shaking the entire time? No, I couldn’t tell,” you answered sarcastically and laughed.

You leaned your head against his shoulder.

“You were perfect,” you assured him.

He let out a sigh of relief and turned his face to kiss the top of your head.

“You wanna shower? You can go first,” he said with his chin rested on the top of your head. You snuck your head out from under him and turned to face him.

“What if you come with me?” you suggested.

He raised his eyebrows at you. “With you as in…”

You crawled over him, got out of bed, and started walking out of the room. When you got to the door, you turned around and looked at him.

“You coming or what?” you giggled.

Jake jumped out of bed to follow you into the bathroom. You’ve never seen him move faster.

You spent the day with Jake at his house. Mostly eating, cuddling on the couch, and doing other things that you were both a little more comfortable doing after last night.

Sam got home in the late afternoon, walking through the door with a huge backpack on his shoulder. His skinny frame struggled to keep it up.

“Hey,” he said as he kicked his shoes off and slid the backpack onto the floor. “How was prom?”

“Good,” you and Jake replied simultaneously.

“Good? That’s it?” he asked.

“That’s it,” Jake answered.

“Hmm,” Sam said, almost suspiciously. He pointed at the two of you. “You guys look different,” he said bluntly.

“That doesn’t make any sense, Sammy,” Jake said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, Sam, you were gone for one night. How different could we possibly be?” you added.

Sam’s eyes squinted at the both of you. As someone who was very intelligent, he didn’t like when he didn’t understand what was going on. And as the youngest child, he felt like that often. He knew something was up but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He rolled his eyes and turned to walk down the hall. His footsteps faded away and he got closer to the boys’ room.

As the door of the room closed, you heard “What the fuck?” from Sam in the room. You and Jake both looked at each other, wide eyed, when it hit you that you didn’t clean up the room from last night.

When you heard Sam start the shower, you and Jake went back into the room and got rid of the evidence of last night’s events. You both decided it was a good time for you to go home, while Sam was out of the way.

When you got home, you told your mom all about prom and how much fun you had, leaving out the explicit details of course. She saw how happy Jake made you.

You went to your room to put your things away and you looked at the flowers in the vase. All of them- completely dead. You pulled one out to save and took the rest downstairs to throw away.

“Flowers finally died?” your mom asked.

“Yeah,” you said as you smiled to yourself.

June 2014:

Graduation was in two weeks. Each senior had to turn in a sentence of their after graduation plans for the ceremony’s program booklet. You and Jake laid on his bed with a notebook open, thinking of what to write for him. Josh was on his bed, texting. He had already turned in his sentence.

Jake stared at the ceiling with a pencil in his mouth. He was stuck. He didn’t exactly have typical post-graduation plans.

“What did you write, Josh?” he asked.

“I wrote that I was going to Michigan State to study filmmaking. It’s not that hard, don’t worry so much about it,” Josh shrugged.

“It’s easy to say that when you actually have a plan,” Jake said, rolling his eyes, “I can’t write that I’m not going to college so I can try my luck at being a rockstar.”

He turned his head to look at you.

“Did you do yours yet?” he asked.

You bit your lip, “Yeah, I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Why?” he asked, looking back to the ceiling.

You took a deep breath, looked over at him, and then looked over at Josh.

“Josh,” you started, “Can you give us a second?”

“Yeah sure. But if you guys start boning, I will tell the entire world about that one time when we were thirteen and Jake-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jake interrupted, laughing.

Josh walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.

“I’m serious, Jake!” he called as you heard his voice trailing down the hallway, away from the door.

Jake sat up and smiled, “What do you want to talk about?”

You closed your eyes for a second and swallowed.

“Please don’t say you’re pregnant,” Jake warned.

You sat up and laughed a little, “No,” you began, “It’s about this whole college thing.”

“Okay what is it?” he asked casually.

You grabbed his hands and put them in your lap. You didn’t know how to even begin to explain this to him.

“So, you know I got into Michigan, right?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“Well, I also got into NYU,” you added, swallowing hard.

“NYU? As in New York?” he asked. He had the most confused look on his face.

You nodded silently.

“I mean, that’s great and all but you’re not actually gonna go,” he laughed. “You’re gonna stay here, right?” he said casually.

You bit your lip and looked down at his hands in your lap. He could tell that something was wrong because you weren’t looking him in the eyes. When you looked up, Jake’s face was full of worry. The gears were turning in his head as he put the pieces of the puzzle together. He knew where this conversation was going.

“Right?” he repeated, a little louder, with concern.

“Jake,” you started.

“You’re going aren’t you?” His voice was full of sadness, with a bit of anger mixed in.

“Jake, please don’t be mad.”

He got up off the bed, stood up, and looked down at you.

“Don’t you have to commit to these things, like, months in advance? You knew about this for a while now, didn’t you? When did you find out about this? When did you decide that you were going?”

As he rattled off questions, his tone got sharper.

“March,” you sighed. You watched his face drop, “The night of your show,” you said quietly.

“March?” He looked to the ceiling in disbelief. “The night of the show where you told me not to keep secrets from you?”

You got off the bed, walked over to him, and grabbed his hands. He pulled them away from you and crossed his arms. His eyes weren’t soft and tired anymore. They were filled with anger and betrayal. His world was just flipped upside down by the one person he trusted the most.

“Jake, I know you’re mad and I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier but there just wasn’t a good time. And your reaction right now is exactly why I waited so long to tell you,” you explained, “ I didn’t want to hurt you.”

There was a moment of silence and Jake looked to the ground before he spoke.

“You could’ve at least told me before I fucked you,” he said bluntly.

“Fucked me? Fucked me?!” You screamed as both your hands pushed into his chest and he stumbled backwards into his nightstand. The force of his back hitting it caused the entire piece of furniture to shake and things fell off the top of it and onto the floor.

His arms uncrossed and as he yelled he waved them around. “Yeah, that’s why you wanted me to do it, right? So you could get it over with before going to New York to get fucked by random guys like some cheap college slut? While I’m here, in fucking Michigan playing a bar gig once a week for two hundred fucking dollars?!”

Your jaw dropped and you breathed out hard. You could have sworn the world stopped moving for a split second. His words hurt you like nothing ever had before. It was as if he stabbed you in the chest and twisted the knife. Tears filled your eyes instantly and you looked at him with blurry vision.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” you whispered.

You saw the look of instant regret on his face. It was as if he couldn’t believe he just said that either.

“Baby, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t mean that.”

He walked over to you and grabbed your hands but you stepped back from him, ripping away from his touch harshly.

“No, you did,” you choked out, “you absolutely meant that.”

All he could do was shake his head and hope you would forgive him. He sat down, put his elbows on his knees, and rested his head in his hands. He was thinking. Hard.

He looked up at you, his eyes begged you to say something. But you couldn’t. You were frozen standing there, there was a pain in your chest that still stung from his words.

He stood up and walked over to you. He wiped your tears and kissed your cheeks. You winced as he did it. You were disgusted by him right now and he knew it. You didn’t think he would ever hurt you the way he just did.

He backed away from you once he realized he needed to give you space and explain himself.

“You just sprung this whole thing on me and I don’t know how to react to it. And then you tell me not to be mad? I’m losing everything I know. How am I not supposed to be mad?” he explained.

“How are you losing everything?” you asked, throwing your hands up in the air and letting them drop to your sides.

He paused for a minute before speaking. It was just a second or two but it felt like forever.

“There’s two things in life I’m sure of. Music… and you. But now suddenly, life is telling me I can’t have either. And without those two things, I’m nothing.”

His voice got shaky as tears formed in his eyes. He looked up at the ceiling and tried not to let them fall.

“What makes you think you can’t have both?” you asked.

“I’m losing Josh, which means I’m losing the band,” he began.

“He’s going an hour away, it’s not the end of the world, Jake!” you cut him off as you tried to explain.

“This band is all I have!” he snapped.

“Okay and what? You don’t have me?” you shouted back.

“No, I don’t have you! Did you not just tell me you were going to go to New York?!”

“Baby, we could do long distance. We could make it work,” you suggested, trying to rationalize a plan.

“How could that ever work? For four years? At least? You realize what’s gonna happen right? You’re gonna get busy with classes and homework. You’re gonna make all new friends and have an entire new life. A life that doesn’t… doesn’t include me.”

“Jake, you know that would nev-”

“No,” said softly and shook his head, “You know it’s true. We both do. I’m gonna lose you. You’ll forget me- and I can’t handle that. Might as well end it now. Save us both some time.”

He was looking down. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. You couldn’t believe he just said that. After everything the two of you had been through, he was just going to throw it all away like this? You knew he would be upset at the news you gave him but you never expected this reaction from him.

“You really want that?” you whispered, praying he would change his mind.

He shook his head, almost like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

“I, I…” he stuttered. He couldn’t say it but you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“You want me to leave? You want to end it now? Save you some time? Fine. I’m gone. We’re done,” you said sharply.

“That’s what I said! Go! You’re gonna do it anyway,” Jake said louder, motioning his hand to the door.

“You really want me to go?” you said. It was a question but at the same time, it wasn’t. You were confirming what he wanted.

“Yes, go! Go have fun getting bent over behind a bar by some rich New York guy. They love innocent little Midwestern girls over there,” he said, with rage in his voice.

Your eyes filled up with tears again as his words stabbed you in the heart once again.

“Fuck you,” you said, looking at him through tear filled eyes.

“Yeah, fuck you, too, Baby. Have a nice life,” he said, lifting his chin and blowing you a kiss.

You shook your head at him in disbelief and walked to the door. You grabbed the door handle and flung it open to see Sam and Josh standing there, listening to everything.

“Take me home, Josh,” you demanded.

He nodded quickly, looking at you with sympathy in his eyes.

Sam awkwardly walked away, not sure what he should do.

Josh went into the room to get his keys and you heard him speak to Jake.

“That was so fucked up,” he said.

He met you in the hallway and left Jake in the room by himself.

As you walked down the hallway and towards the front door with Josh, you heard the boys’ bedroom door slam.

Josh drove you home and sat in your driveway with you for hours while you told him everything. Everything.

He listened to what you had to say closely. He held you as you cried on his shoulder. He rubbed your back and petted your head, comforting you. His embrace was what you needed from Jake right now. But you needed someone, and other than Jake, he was a person you could trust.

Josh walked you inside and tucked you into bed. He made sure you were okay to leave alone before he left. He told your parents what happened so that you didn’t have to.

You laid there, absolutely sick. You had a lump in your throat and your stomach was in knots. Your eyes and lips were swollen from all the crying you’d done in the past few hours. You didn’t even know your body could produce that many tears. Your heart was completely ripped out of your chest.

You cried yourself to sleep that night. It was the first of many nights like that.

When Josh got back home, Jake was sitting on the couch in the basement with his elbows on his knees, and his head hanging low with his hands in his hair.

Every part of his bedroom reminded him of you and he couldn’t be in there. The smell of you that he loved, lingered on his sheets and made him physically sick to the point of him vomiting.

Josh didn’t want to get in the middle of things but he knew Jake needed him just as much as you did.

Josh let Jake get it all out and calmed him down considerably. But Jake slept downstairs for the next week. When Jake finally returned to sleep in his bed, Josh pretended that he didn’t hear Jake crying every night.

Jake skipped English class that entire week so you didn’t see him at school at all. You knew he was there because you saw his Jeep in the parking lot. He was avoiding you. You were glad he was though because you couldn’t handle seeing him.

On Saturday morning, your heart stopped when you saw his name light up on your phone screen.

10:38 am: Can I see you? I can come to your house.

You sat there for a while thinking if you should reply or not. You wanted to see him. You needed to see him. You wanted him to hold you and tell you things were going to be okay and that he was willing to try. You wanted to feel his arms around you and his rough hands holding your face. You wanted to push his shaggy hair out of his eyes and see his smile shining bright. You had just the tiniest bit of hope that that would happen.

You took a deep breath and answered.

10:50 am: Okay

The doorbell rang shortly after and when you opened the door, you saw him standing there looking horrific. He had bags under his eyes and the color in his face had faded. His hair was a mess and his cheeks were hollowed out. You could tell he wasn’t sleeping or eating. You started to cry just looking at him.

“Can we talk? Please?” he asked, practically begging.

You nodded and sat down on your front steps with him.

He grabbed your hands and you felt his touch for the first time in a week.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” he began.

“You should be,” you said quietly.

“I know. I just…I wanted you to be as mad as I was. I wanted you to feel guilty.”

You rolled your eyes, “Well then you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

Tears formed in his eyes as he saw how hurt you were. He started breathing heavily and swallowed, fighting back the tears. He put his head down and closed his eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said as a single tear from his eye fell onto your hand.

“Jake,” you began, “Remember what we said? About seeing the world? What if this is my chance?”

“I thought you said we would see the world together?” he said, looking up at you.

“Jake, please,” you begged him.

Things changed. You always thought you would stay in Michigan with Jake and support him and his music. Maybe one day he would become successful and you’d be able to see the world with him. But with you and Josh leaving, and Jake’s dreams becoming more and more unattainable, it seemed like the only one who would be seeing the world was you.

You wanted to go. Jake knew you wanted to go. But the thought of leaving him behind broke your heart, and the thought of you moving on with your life broke his. He knew once you left, he would lose you little by little. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right.

“You really want to go, don’t you?”

You nodded.

“Then, I have to let you go,” he said, “I love you, but I have to let you go,” he repeated.

He kissed your lips softly, one last time. You kissed him back and held onto the moment for as long as you could.

The tears on both your faces mixed together, causing both your cheeks to be wet. He pulled back and held your face in his hand, wiping the tears with his thumb. You shook your head, crying. His eyes that were once full of happiness and love, were full of pain and sadness.

“You’re gonna go see the world,” he whispered, “You’re gonna love it.”

With that, he kissed you on the cheek and got up. He walked over to the car, got in, and drove away.

He left you there on the steps, absolutely crushed.

You ran upstairs sobbing. You threw yourself into bed and clutched his hoodie close to feel some sort of comfort from him. You buried your face into it, smelling him on it and letting it absorb your tears.

Jake, the one person who you felt the most safe with, just completely shattered your heart into a million pieces and there was nothing you could do to fix it. There was no changing his mind. You stayed in your room for a while, just crying and thinking about him and what just happened.

A few hours later, you heard your doorbell ring. You went downstairs and opened the door to see his Jeep turning the corner. You looked down to see a cardboard box on your front step. When you looked inside, you felt a deep pain in your chest. Your hands shook as you picked through the items inside. A bunch of pictures of the two of you, your corsage from prom, and some of your clothes, including the big, white, Greta Van Fleet shirt. It wasn’t even your shirt. It was his, but he knew it was your favorite. Finally at the bottom- the Stephen Stills album you gave him for his birthday. You expected him to give you your stuff back. But you never expected to see that album sitting in the box. You picked up the album and a piece of paper, about the size of an index card, fell out. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You opened them back up and read…

Go see the world. -Jake

The next day, you dropped off a box of Jake’s stuff and left it with Sam. Inside you put the necklace he gave you for Christmas, the document of the star named after you, his clothes, and the single dead rose you kept from his prom flowers. Sam took it from you and gave you a weak smile.

“You know,” he began, “he really did love you. He still does. He just, he just doesn’t know how to deal with all this. I know you didn’t mean to hurt him. And he didn’t mean to hurt you. Maybe he’ll come around, ya know? Maybe he just needs some time?”

You nodded and gave Sam a hug. It was the first and only time you ever hugged Sam. He was small, and cute, and yes he was annoying. But, you grew to absolutely adore him.

“I’m gonna miss you, Sammy,” you whispered.

He rubbed your back as he hugged you, “I’m gonna miss you too. I hope I get to see you again, one day.”

You smiled, nodded, and pulled away from him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“My first kiss!” he gasped, lightly holding his cheek over where you kissed him.

You laughed and said your final goodbye to him. You looked back at the house one last time to see Sam in the doorway, holding the box and waving at you.

Graduation day came and you watched Jake and Josh walk across the stage, one after the other. You saw Jake smile for the first time in what looked like a long time. He seemed genuinely happy. Seeing him smile like that made your heart break. That was the same smile he used to give you. Now all you could do was watch him from afar.

As he walked off stage with his diploma in hand, he looked over at you. He always knew when you were looking at him. Your eyes caught his for a moment and he gave you a small smile. You smiled softly back at him and looked away, heartbroken. That was the last time you ever saw Jake Kiszka.

After graduation, you went home and looked into the program, curious to see what Jake eventually came up with for his plans. Tears came flooding back as you read…

“Joshua M. Kiszka: Michigan State University- Film Studies”

Jake’s name was supposed to be above Josh’s, but it was skipped in the program. Jake never submitted anything. A tear fell from your eyes and hit the second K in Kiszka, splattering the ink on the paper. You put the program in the box of your stuff from Jake and shoved it under your bed, where it would stay, untouched, for years.

That summer, you kept in touch with Josh a bit. He would often ask you how you were doing, if you needed anything, and if you wanted to hang out. Even though you wanted to, you never went to see him because you knew it would hurt too much.

He mentioned Jake was doing better and putting his pain into music as a distraction. It may not have been the best coping method, but it helped. Music was always Jake’s escape and it was the only thing he had at the time.

Your contact with Josh faded as the summer went on and as the band took off. A management company was looking to work with them, which led to record deal offers and album writing. They started playing shows all around Michigan and in the upper Midwest.

Josh ended up not going to Michigan State as previously planned. He was going to put his dream of film making on hold to help Jake achieve his dream.

While Jake went after his dream, you did too. You started college in New York and buried the pain of Jake as you got busier with school, internships, jobs, and life in the city.

But through the years, you still felt him. Every time it snowed, you pictured him on top of you in the snow, wearing that beanie he loved. Every time the wind blew through your hair, your mind took you back to being on the highway with him with the windows down. The smell of pine trees made you think of his house on Christmas. Every time you ate a chocolate chip cookie, you remembered the taste of them on his lips.

You went back to Frankenmuth on breaks and for holidays but every time you did, Jake was gone. Any time you drove past the Kiszka’s house, all the lights were out and mail was piled up by the door, indicating that they haven’t been home for a while. Every now and again, people around town mentioned they were doing well. You never looked into it though. You knew it would hurt too much.

One day, you saw an advertisement that Greta Van Fleet would be the musical guest on SNL. A little voice in the back of your head told you to look them up and see what they were doing. SNL was huge and it was almost unfathomable that they actually made it. You knew they were doing well but you didn’t know they were doing that well.

You listened to that little voice and searched. You felt instant regret but you couldn’t stop yourself. As you looked at pictures of them, there was no holding back your tears.

Danny and Sam got tall and grew their hair out. Sam’s braces were gone and his sweet, baby face chiseled out, with little specks of facial hair poking out of his chin. He definitely grew into his nose, too.

Josh’s hair got curlier, and his clothes got even crazier, in the best way. It was so Josh and you loved it. He still had those wild eyes that were full of ideas and his warm smile that lit up rooms.

You breathed heavily and your heart sank when you looked at Jake’s photo. His hair was long, past his shoulders, like he always wanted. It had a bit of a wave to it and it didn’t cover his forehead anymore. His clothes were cooler. He traded his sneakers and t-shirts for boots and shirts unbuttoned to his stomach. His body was more filled out. His muscles were more defined. You were looking at pictures of a grown man. He looked good.

Out of curiosity, you watched a video of them. Jake’s voice was deeper. He still had that adorable smile and those deep eyes that sparked. You cried harder as the video played on. They were in a record store, talking about their favorites. Sam of course, was looking for something wacky and Josh was all over the film soundtracks. Your heart stopped when you saw Jake’s choice. The Stephen Stills album. He said he wanted it because of a certain song. Love the One You’re With.

You closed your eyes and images of him flashed through your mind. You saw him in the kitchen of the cabin on his birthday; spinning around on his feet and singing the song out to you. You felt his hands around your waist and his lips on your cheek. He was so happy that day. That was the day he said you were his forever.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You turned the video off and cried just as much as you did the night you had that argument with him, almost five years ago.

For years, you had pushed the memories of him away. They were too painful to even think about. But now, they came flooding back with full force- knocking the wind out of your lungs and stabbing at your heart.

Did he ever think of you the way you thought of him? He was your everything once, and you were his. Now he was nothing but a memory to you and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were nothing to him too.

Jake was out there living his dream. Performing for huge crowds, traveling all over, and playing the music he loved. This was what he always wanted and now he was actually doing it. You were proud of him but your heart had a hole where he used to be. He was out there, exploring the world, without you.

November 2019:

It was the day before Thanksgiving and your graduating class decided to do an unofficial 5 year reunion at a local bar since everyone would be home for the holiday anyway. You flew in from New York that morning and decided to go to the event. You hadn’t seen your highschool friends in a few months and you were excited to see what they were up to.

You only had one thing that made you nervous about the event but your friends told you that you had nothing to worry about in regard to seeing Jake. The band was on tour in Europe at the moment so there was no way he could be there.

Catching up with your friends was much needed. It was nice to get a break from work and the city and be back in your little hometown.

You were at the bar, about to order a drink when you heard everyone inside get louder. You looked toward the sound of the voices and saw two figures.

Brown curly hair, a striped jacket, tan pants, and little white sneakers.

Long dark hair, skinny jeans, boots, and a half buttoned black shirt.

Your stomach dropped and your heart raced at the sight of both of them. It was like the world stopped moving. You were paralyzed. The bar was filled with people, but you only saw them.

Your eyes instantly went to Jake. Him and Josh were talking to a bunch of people. Everyone wanted to hear their stories of fame and success.

Jake’s eyes were gleaming. His smile was big and shone bright like it always did.

Just as you were about to look away, he caught you. After all, he always knew when you were looking at him.

Your eyes met and everything around you suddenly stopped. His face dropped at the sight of you. He looked like he just saw a ghost.

You looked away from him, shook your head, and walked out of sight, out the back door of the bar and onto the empty patio area.

You stood outside, looking at the sky and breathing slowly to calm yourself. You heard the back door open and you closed your eyes.

“I knew you’d be out here,” you heard a deep, raspy voice say softly.

You turned around to see Jake standing there with his hands in his front pockets, looking up at the sky.

You turned your back to him and he walked up and stood next to you. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Care if I smoke right now?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No, you can.”

You two stood in silence for a while as the smell of cigarette smoke filled the air.

“You did it. You became a rockstar,” you finally said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah well, someone once told me I was talented,” he looked over at you, smiling slightly.

You smiled at him and then looked back up to the sky.

“So, you’re seeing the world. What’s it like?” you asked.

He let a small laugh out of his nose and breathed deeply, “Incredible,” he whispered.

You looked at him with a funny feeling inside. You were happy that he was out there living his dream. But sad because he had a whole new life now, a life that didn’t include you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, faintly smelling the scent of his cologne. It was the same one you used to smell on his sheets in the morning, and smell on his neck when you kissed him.

“You know,” he began, throwing the remaining bits of his cigarette on the ground, “You’re with me everywhere I go.”

“What do you mean?”

“No matter where I am in the world or what’s going on in life- every time I look up at the sky at night, I think of you.”

He pointed to a spot in the sky.

“There you are. Right above the four little ones in a row,” he said, “It’s almost like, it’s me, Josh, Sam, and Danny. And then you.”

You looked up and your vision got blurry as tears filled your eyes.

You turned to him and grabbed his hands. They were bigger and rougher than they’d been years ago.

“I’m really proud of you, you know that?” you asked.

He nodded, giving you a closed mouth smile.

You sat out there with Jake for hours. You told him all about college, work, and your life in New York. He told you all about his career, his travels, and what his brothers were up to. He told you about SNL, and that he thought of you the whole time he was in the city, hoping that maybe, just maybe you were watching. You told him you didn’t watch and you saw a small wave of sadness wash over him.

It was quiet for a moment until you spoke again.

“I never forgot you, y’know?”

“What do you mean?”

“That night. You said that I’d forget you,” you looked at him and then back to the ground, “I never did.”

He sighed and looked to the ground too. You could tell he was thinking hard. He was replaying that night in his head, just like you were.

“Do you ever regret it?” you finally asked.

He nodded and sighed, “Everyday for years I wondered what things would be like if I didn’t let you walk out of my room that night. If I went after you. Or if I would have tried. But we’ll never know, will we?”

You shook your head and shrugged your shoulders, knowing there was no hope of it now.

He asked you if you were seeing anyone and you told him about some dates you’d gone on, none of them really working out. He told you he had a girlfriend, Jita. He showed you pictures, she was beautiful. He said he told her all about you.

“I’m really glad I got to see you tonight,” you said.

“Yeah me too,” he replied.

“If you’re ever in New York, let me know,” you said.

He nodded and looked down. He put his hand behind his neck and bit his lip. There it was, that nervous little movement he always did. Even though he was a rockstar now, he was still a little kid from Frankenmuth, Michigan deep down.

“Can I hug you?” he asked quietly.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

He pulled you close to him and held you tight, with one arm around your back and the other on your head. His body was warm, and bigger than the last time he held you. You rested your head on his shoulder like you used to. His hair tickled your cheeks again and the familiar smell of him filled your lungs. You closed your eyes and took the moment in.

Even after all those years, in his arms, you felt safe, you felt at home, and most of all, you felt loved.

He pulled away and gave you a kiss on the cheek. He started to walk back inside and turned back around to you.

“You coming back in?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you answered.

You took one last look at the star in the sky. The little one right above the string of four. Tonight, it was right next to the moon. You let out a breath and smiled. You were with him everywhere he went. No matter where he was, or where you were- you were both with each other. Forever.

You turned to walk with him and he opened the door for you, letting you go before him.

“So what’s this about you being Sam’s first kiss?” he laughed as the two of you walked back inside.

Epilogue:

Josh sat in the conference room of the Greta Van Fleet management offices, typing on his computer when Jake walked in.

“Hey, we’re gonna leave in a second? You ready?” he asked, leaning on the doorframe.

“Yeah,” Josh replied, “I’m just finishing up some stuff.”

“Another screenplay?” Jake teased as he walked towards the table Josh was sitting at.

“Yeah, it’s not really my usual style but the idea just kind of came to me and I’m in the process of selling it to a production company.”

“Oh shit, what’s it about?” Jake asked.

“It’s kind of a coming of age sort of thing. It’s the story about a first love that falls apart, from the female character’s point of view. With brief insights of the male’s perspective.”

“Sounds cheesy,” Jake joked as he looked over Josh’s shoulder and tried to take a peek.

Josh looked up at him to see Jake’s eyes glancing at the screen. He closed the computer quickly.

“I saw my name,” Jake said bluntly.

“No you didn’t!” Josh replied in a high pitched voice, laughing him off.

Jake paused for a second, looking down, and thinking hard. Then it hit him. He knew exactly the story Josh was writing. He squinted his eyes and looked at Josh.

“Josh. I saw my name. I swear to God if you’re writing about what I think you’re writing about I will kill you.”

“I’m not!” Josh answered in defense, laughing nervously.

“Hm,” Jake breathed, still suspicious. He turned to leave the room, giving Josh a warning look.

When Jake closed the door behind him, Josh opened the computer back up and changed the name to Jack.

The End

October 2013:

It was the day after the kiss. You found yourself thinking about Jake throughout the day. He had always been a background character in your life. Barely a character at all to be honest. You never thought twice about him. But ever since that kiss, he was all you thought about.

You saw your phone screen light up from across the room and your stomach did cartwheels when you read what was on the screen.

INSTAGRAM: @jake_kiszka has requested to follow you.

You guessed it was safe to say he was thinking about you too.

November 2013, Thanksgiving Break:

It was Saturday night and you and Jake planned to have a movie night in the Kiszka’s basement since the twins had the house to themselves for the next few hours. You changed in the bathroom and walked into Jake’s room to help him get the pillows and blankets from his bed and bring them downstairs. He was holding a pillow in his arm when you walked in wearing a tank top and pajama shorts. He was in a T-shirt and plaid pajama pants. You knelt down to put your old clothes in your backpack when Jake spoke.

“Woah, Baby, you look hot,” he said as he looked you up and down.

You turned your head back around and stood up. Did he just say what you think you heard him say?

“What did you say?” you asked as you walked over to his bed.

Jake’s face dropped and a shade of pink appeared on his cheeks. “Uh, I said you look hot,” he answered. He had a little hint of panic on his face and his eyes widened a bit.

“No,” you said, stretching out the word and grabbing a second pillow which rested on the foot of his bed. “What’d you call me?”

Jake paused. He looked down at the floor and grabbed the back of his neck with his available hand. He rubbed his neck and bit his lip.

“Nothing,” he replied shyly, looking up at you through the gaps in his hair.

You walked over to him and hit him gently with the pillow you were holding. “It didn’t sound like nothing,” you said sweetly.

He hit you softly with the pillow he was holding. “Well it was nothing.”

“Say it, Jake,” you teased. You hit him harder this time.

“No.” he smiled back at you and gave you an equal hit with his pillow.

You raised the pillow at him, threatening to hit him with it again and he giggled, winding up his body with his pillow in hand.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned playfully as he swung the pillow around your back and hit you on the butt with it. The force of his hit pushed your body closer to his and he pulled you in.

He threw his pillow onto his bed and pulled you in by the waist, giving you little, light kisses on your lips.

“Stop. Trying. To. Distract. Me.” you said in between kisses. You broke away from him and gave him a warning look.

“I’m not trying to do anything,” he whispered slyly, with a mischievous smile on his face. His smile faded a bit as he stared deep into your eyes for a moment. Holding his gaze longer than usual as his eyes seemed to get lost in yours.

While he was distracted, you quickly raised the pillow and connected it to his chest. The force caused him to stumble backwards and the backs of his knees hit the edge of his bed. He fell backwards onto it laughing.

You jumped on top of him with each leg on either side of his torso and sat on his stomach. Your knees sank into his mattress and you threw the pillow out of the way. You grabbed his face with one hand and squeezed his cheeks together, causing his lips to part. With your other hand, you grabbed his wrists and pinned them on his chest. His whole body shook underneath you as he laughed.

“Say it,” you sang out.

“If I say it will you let go of my face?” he giggled with his cheeks still smooshed together. His eyes squinted from smiling.

You let go of his cheeks and leaned down to kiss him, with your hands still holding his wrists. You released them and combed your hands through the hair covering his forehead. He brought his hands to your hips and rubbed his thumbs against the skin just above the waistband of your shorts.

He looked into your eyes deeply. He had the calmest, softest eyes and the tiniest smile appeared on his face as he spoke.

“Baby,” he whispered.

Your tongue traced your lips and you looked down at him, smiling.

“Mmm, Baby,” you repeated.

His smile widened. You could tell he liked hearing your voice speak the word out to him.

“Is that… okay?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I like it.”

One of his hands moved to the back of your neck and he pulled you in to kiss him. This kiss felt different. There was something special about it. You had just reached a milestone in your relationship together, one that would stick with the two of you forever.

You broke away from Jake and crawled off of him. He sat up and you pulled him off the bed by his arm, leading him out of the room.

The two of you went out to the kitchen to make popcorn. As you were waiting for it to pop, you saw Josh in the living room watching his own movie.

“Baby can you get that big bowl from the top cabinet?” Jake asked.

Josh’s head spun around quicker than anything you’ve ever seen before.

December 2013:

It was the middle of winter break. You weren’t allowed to go to Jake’s house after the Christmas incident. You hadn’t seen him in a few days but you talked through text every day. He said he would call you at night once he got home from his grandparents house. You laid in bed, waiting for his call. At around 9 pm, his name lit up on your phone screen and you picked it up instantly.

You and Jake talked for a few hours but it felt like just a few minutes. You told each other what you did during the day and shared random stories from your lives. He told you he had a talk with Sam about girls and made you swear you would never let Sam know that you knew about it. You heard his voice get quieter as your conversation went on. You figured Josh and Sam had gone to bed.

“Tired?” you asked.

It was getting late and you could hear it in Jake’s voice that he was about to fall asleep.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, “But I missed your voice.”

“What else?” you asked, almost in a whisper.

You heard him shuffle around a bit and he began.

“I miss holding you. I miss playing with your hair. I miss your lips. I miss kissing you. I miss you kissing me. I miss how you smell,” he laughed a little, “I haven’t washed my sheets since you were here. I can smell you on them.”

You let out a small laugh.

“Mmm, that. I miss your laugh.”

You could tell from his voice that he was smiling. You wished you could see him right now. You pictured his eyes squinting as his cheeks pushed up around them. Jake had the brightest and cutest smile you’d ever seen.

You sighed, “Okay my turn. I miss your smile. The way your face lights up when you’re happy. I miss holding your hands. I miss when you rub my back when I lay on you. I miss when you kiss my neck and your hair tickles me. I miss...”

You heard him breathing slowly and deeply on the other end of the phone.

“Jake?” you asked.

“Hmm?” he replied slowly.

“Are you listening?”

“Mmm,” he replied.

He sucked in a breath through his mouth that sounded like the little snores he does when he starts to fall asleep. You giggled quietly to yourself and listened for a few more minutes. The only thing coming from the other end of the phone was Jake’s breathing.

You closed your eyes and imagined him next to you. You could practically feel his warm body holding you and making you feel safe and secure. His hands rubbing your back and tracing patterns on your skin. His legs finding their way on top of yours and the hairs on them tickling yours. His breathing and snoring noises being a lullaby to you and putting you to sleep.

You missed him more than you could even express to him. He felt like the safest place on earth. You were counting down the days until you would be in that place again.

After some time of listening to him on the other end, you started to feel tired yourself.

“Night, Baby,” you whispered. You blew a small kiss to your phone, hung up, and went to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to a text from Jake that read,

9:32 AM: You were in my dream last night, I’ll call you later and tell you about it. I won’t fall asleep this time I promise.

January 2014:

You and Jake walked into the laundry room soaking wet and cold from the snow. You took your coats off and threw them on top of the dryer. You pulled Jake’s hat off his head and he shook out his hair, giggling. Jake left for a second and came back with changes of his clothes for both of you.

“You wanna change in here? I can leave if you want me to,” he said as he handed you the clothes.

“Stay,” you whispered as you took the clothes from his hands and put them on top of the washing machine. You walked closer to him and wrapped your hands around his back. He put his hands on your waist. A smile crept onto his face and he leaned in to kiss you softly.

“You wanna take this off?” he asked quietly, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. You nodded and raised your arms. Jake lifted the shirt up off you and over your head. He took his shirt off and threw them both on the pile on the dryer.

He lowered his head and planted gentle kisses to your collarbone.

“I love you,” he said softly between kisses.

His cold hands rested on the small of your back. The feeling of his cold hands mixed with the feeling of his cold lips on your bones gave you goosebumps all over.

You giggled and held onto his head as his mouth worked on you. He pulled his lips from you and lifted his head to look at you.

“Turn around,” he whispered.

You turned around and moved your hair to the front of your shoulder. He rested his chin on your shoulder as his hands played with your bra strap. He snaked his fingers underneath and ran them back and forth under the fabric. He stopped moving his hand when he got to the clasp.

“Can I?” his raspy voice spoke softly.

You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes connected and you nodded slowly, “Yeah,” you whispered.

He undid the clasp and pushed the straps off your shoulders. His rough fingertips slid gently down your arms. He rubbed the skin on your shoulders where the straps had once been.

“I love you,” he said again, kissing your shoulder.

You pulled your bra the rest of the way off and tossed it into the pile. You turned back around to face him and crossed your arms over your chest and rested your hands on your shoulders. You bit your lip and smiled at him.

Jake undid his jeans, kicked them off his ankles, picked them up, and put them on the pile. The only thing left on him was his boxers.

He knelt down in front of you and his eyes never left yours as he lowered himself to the floor. He put his hands on the button of your pants and you nodded at him. He undid the button and zipper and dug his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans to work them down. You held his shoulders as he pulled them off and you stepped out of them. The wetness from the snow caused them to stick to your legs a little. Jake grabbed the backs of your legs and ran his hands up and down them. He planted more kisses to each of your thighs with an “I love you,” before each one.

As he played with the waistband of your underwear you sucked in a breath. You felt his hands shaking and his breathing becoming uneven. You could practically hear your own heart beating out of your chest.

You and Jake had done things like this before. You had taken each other’s clothes off before. He had seen you like this before. You had seen him like this before. But this time it was different. This wasn’t teenage eagerness driven by hormones. It wasn’t rushed and needy. This was slow and intimate. This was out of love.

He looked back up at you, his eyes silently asked for permission. You put your hands over his and guided him as he put his thumbs through the waistband and pulled them down off you. You stepped out of them and he gathered them from the floor and threw them onto the pile of clothes. You placed your hands on the sides of his head as he kissed your hip bones softly.

“I love you,” he whispered again before and after each kiss. His hot breath on you sent shivers up and down your body.

He started working his way back up leaving wet kisses all over your stomach, your chest, and your neck, and back to your lips. He pulled down his boxers and stepped out of them as he rose to his feet. His face was an inch away from yours when he breathed you in and connected his lips to yours. His tongue teased your bottom lip and slid against yours. After a minute or so, you pulled away from him and both of you started laughing, realizing you were standing in the middle of his laundry room, cold and naked.

He reached for the dry clothes and you both put them on yourselves. When you were both fully clothed, he pulled you in close to hug you. You rested your chin on his shoulder and breathed in his scent.

“I love every part of you,” he said just above a whisper.

He turned his head and kissed your cheek hard. You leaned back, grabbed his hands, and pulled them in front of him. His eyes were calm and soft. He looked completely at peace.

“You love me back, right?” he asked as a small smile formed on his lips.

“Forever,” you whispered.

Jake smiled and kissed your forehead. He broke away from you and picked up the pile of clothes and tossed them into the dryer. Jake pressed the ON button before leaving the small room.

The Next Morning

It was pitch black in the basement when you felt Jake move next to you. Both of you were half asleep when Jake spoke.

“Mmm,” he groaned, “I have to go back upstairs,” he said as he adjusted his position.

“Stay five more minutes,” you whispered as you rubbed your hand under his shirt and up to his chest.

“I will. What time is it?” he asked in a tired voice.

You reached over him and picked up his phone that was lying next to him. It had to be close to midnight. The two of you fell asleep pretty early. The bright light of the screen made you squint your eyes but they grew wide when you read 8:34 AM.

“8:34?” you said, confused.

“What?” Jake asked in a groggy voice, making sure he heard you correctly.

You held the phone up to him so he could see for himself. He sat up and rubbed his eyes as he looked around, trying to see in the darkness of the basement. The only light came from the staircase leading up to the kitchen. Jake leaned over to peer up the stairs.

“Shh, the doors still open,” he whispered.

“Can you go up and sneak into your bed? Pretend you were there all night? You think your parents will know?”

“I can’t,” he shook his head and sighed, “They’re awake. I can smell coffee.”

Jake bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at you. He was trying to think of a plan. But he was also hoping you’d have one.

“Okay, if I can be quiet enough, it’s worth a shot, right? If anything, I’ll just say I came to see if you were awake, right?”

You gave him a worried look and shrugged your shoulders.

Jake pulled the blanket off him and scooted off the mattress. You sat up on your elbow and watched him nervously. He started walking slowly towards the stairs, trying to avoid his feet making any noise on the floor.

He didn’t even make it to the first step when you heard “I’m not stupid, Jacob,” coming from Kelly on the main floor.

Jake looked at you in defeat and mouthed the word “Fuck.”

“Just be ready to get out there and shovel by 9!”

“Hahaha! Busted!” you heard Sam laugh from upstairs.

Jake rolled his eyes and walked back over to you. He crawled back under the covers and laid himself on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms around you. One of your hands held the back of his head and the other rubbed between his shoulder blades. He draped his leg over yours and the heat of his body on top of you warmed you up instantly.

“So, five more minutes, right?” he asked as you felt him smile into you and you heard the basement door close shut from the top of the steps.

February 2014:

You and Jake were on the couch in his garage. He had a space heater running close by and the garage door was locked. You had a lot of time to kill before the guys showed up for band practice. Sam and Danny were still at school and Josh had rehearsals for the school musical. And with you and Jake, what was the best way to kill time? Make out.

Things heated up quicker than usual but things were still comfortable until you found yourselves one step away from going all the way.

Both of your clothes were on the floor and Jake was on top of you with his lips planting wet, open mouthed kisses to your neck when it hit you.

“Jake, stop,” you said suddenly, causing him to pull his mouth off you and move his eyes to meet yours.

He saw the worried look in your eyes instantly.

“You okay?” he asked as he lifted himself off of you.

You shook your head and he sat back on the opposite side of the couch.

Tears started forming in your eyes as you sat up. “I don’t want to do this. I’m not ready.”

Jake reached down to the floor and grabbed your clothes and held them out to you. You took them and put them on as he gathered the rest of the clothes off the floor and got himself dressed.

When you looked him in the eyes you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore.

“Hey,” he said softly, “Shh, come here.”

He opened his arms up to you and you rested your head on his chest as he held you in a tight hug. He rested his chin on your head and rubbed his hands up and down your back softly, trying to calm you. He had a tight hold on you and he rocked you back and forth slowly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly into his chest as your tears fell onto his shirt, leaving dark spots on the faded red fabric.

He broke away from you and you sat up but you kept your head looking down. He held onto your face with both hands and lifted your head up, looking deep into your eyes. His eyebrow furrowed slightly and you could tell he was concentrating on reading your emotions.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s a big deal, I get it,” he said quietly, using his thumb to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

You grabbed his hands and lowered them to your lap. You looked down and played with his fingers as you spoke.

“But I know you want to do it. Let’s just end it now and you can go do it with anyone you want,” you said.

You stopped playing with his fingers after you said it. You were waiting for him to pull his hands away from you and break up with you then and there.

But he didn’t. He put his hands on top of yours and held them still.

You looked up at him and your eyes met his. They were filled with sadness and confusion.

“Okay, yeah I want to do it. But I want to do it with you. When you want to. When you’re ready.”

You looked back down in defeat and embarrassment.

Jake let go of your hands and sat back on the couch, facing straight ahead. He turned his head to look at you. He rested his hand on your knee and rubbed it back and forth.

“Can I ask you something? And you don’t have to answer,” he began.

You looked at him and nodded slightly, silently giving him permission to ask what was on his mind.

“Why don’t you want to?”

You sighed and closed your eyes for a second. He deserved to know. He was too good to you about everything related to this topic. He always asked for permission before he tried anything or before he touched you. He always stopped when you asked him to. And he never pushed you to do anything. He deserved an explanation.

“I’m just… scared I guess. Scared it’s gonna hurt. Scared I won’t be good at it. And, and scared you’re not gonna love me after.”

Jake’s shoulders dropped and he shook his head slowly like he couldn’t believe what you just said. He turned to face you, grabbed your hands, and placed them in his lap.

“Look, I can’t make any promises about the first one. And who knows about the second one. But I can promise you that I will never stop loving you. No matter what.”

He looked right into your eyes the whole time he spoke. He was serious. The most serious you’ve ever seen him. You knew he meant what he said. And he did. He never stopped loving you.

Jake got up from the couch, sat with his legs criss crossed on the floor, and pulled his acoustic guitar onto his lap. He flashed that sweet smile at you from across the room.

“Now get over here. I have more I want to teach you.”

March 2014:

It was the first weekend of the month and the only weekend where Jake wasn’t playing a show. It was also the first weekend your parents actually allowed you to stay at the Kiszka’s house overnight, instead of it being an accident.

Karen and Kelly went to a wedding out of state so it was just the four Kiszka siblings and you. No basement this time. Jake’s parents figured keeping the two of you apart didn’t work in the past so they might as well let you both sleep in Jake’s bed. As for your parents, what they didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. Regardless, it was certain nothing would happen with Josh and Sam in the room.

You laid on the couch in the living room, cuddled into Jake when the ending credits of the movie the five of you just finished started rolling. It was almost midnight and the majority of you were ready for bed.

Josh sighed and got up off the floor, “You guys wanna have some fun?” he asked, looking around at everyone.

“What kind of fun?” Jake asked in a cautious voice as he adjusted his position on the couch. Josh’s idea of “fun” sometimes went to the extreme.

An evil smile crept on Josh’s face as he started to walk out of the living room, “Follow me.”

Josh led the four of you into the boys’ room and instructed you to sit in a circle on the floor.

You and Jake leaned against his bed and Josh leaned against his. Sam and Ronnie sat on either side to complete the circle. Jake put his hand on your knee and you rested your hand on top of his, rubbing his hand with your thumb. You were all a little apprehensive as to what Josh had in mind- you never knew what to expect with him.

Josh dove under his bed and reached around a little, finally pulling out a bottle of Smirnoff Vodka from a brown paper bag.

Jake made a point that you all couldn’t just sit there and just drink it- there had to be something else to it. He and Josh got the idea of Never Have I Ever. You explained the basics of the game to Sam and Ronnie. The rules were simple. If you did it, you drank.

Josh placed the bottle in the middle of the circle and rubbed his hands together as he began.

“Never have I ever crashed Mom’s car,” he said giggling.

“No way! That’s not fair! You can’t single people out like that!” Jake protested, sitting up a bit and extending his arm out, pointing at Josh.

Josh handed him the bottle, “You did it. You drink.”

Jake rolled his eyes and reached for the bottle, twisted the cap off, and put the bottle to his lips. His head flew back as he took a swig.

He pulled his mouth off the bottle and winced as he swallowed. “That shits terrible,” he laughed, placing the bottle down on the floor, in the middle of the circle.

The game continued as each of you took turns. Josh got the biggest kick out of “Never have I ever used a hair straightener” and he sat there with the biggest smile on his face as the rest of you passed the bottle around and took your shots; that one in particular making Sam gag a little as he swallowed.

The five of you started to feel the effects of the liquor soon after, causing the questions to get more secretive and dirtier, and causing you all to get more giggly than ever. The four of them started targeting each other and making scenarios specific in order to get the other people to drink. Jake took shots for you when you didn’t want to or felt like you couldn’t, causing him to get a little tipsier than you.

The alcohol also caused Jake to get more cuddly and touchy. He started running his hands up and down your thigh and snaking his hands under your shirt; pulling you in close to him and rubbing his thumbs lightly on the skin of your stomach. He was just subtle enough to not catch his siblings’ attention, even though you swear you saw Josh’s eyes wandering.

It was Jake’s turn and he looked at Josh and smirked before continuing. Josh returned the same face to him. They knew what the other one was thinking, without saying anything.

“Never have I ever… gotten a boner watching Camp Rock,” Jake said, smiling smugly across the circle at Sam.

The four of you held in your laughs as you watched Sam’s face drop and turn bright red.

“What the fuck, Jake?” Sam shouted in defense.

“Care to explain, Samuel?” Ronnie giggled.

“Okay first of all, it was Camp Rock 2!” Sam protested, “And second of all- that’s not fai-“

Jake interrupted him, “It is fair! You just thought we didn’t know. We knew. Now, come on, take the shot!”

Sam rolled his eyes and brought the bottle to his mouth. Before he connected his lips, he stopped and smiled, “What if we make this more interesting?”

He placed the bottle back on the floor in front of him and pointed at it.

“I bet you I can chug a large portion of what’s left of this shit. If I do it, you each owe me $5.”

The four of you looked at Sam, confused and shocked at the same time. He seemed to be on the verge of death every time he had to drink tonight. There’s no way in hell he could pull off chugging straight from the bottle.

“You can’t,” Josh laughed.

“Yeah, there’s no fucking way!” Ronnie added.

Jake got up and grabbed the garbage can by the door and placed it next to Sam, just in case. The four of you sat as Sam’s audience, waiting for him to begin.

“Are you gonna do it or what?” Jake asked.

“Let me see the money first,” Sam stated.

Jake and Josh both crawled up to their beds and pulled out money from boxes on their shelves. Josh put $5 in front of Sam and Jake put $10 to cover both of you. Ronnie went to her room and came back with 5 singles. All of it was placed nearly in front of Sam and he smiled at it.

He picked up the bottle and raised it in the air, “To Camp Rock 2 and the start of my manhood,” he declared.

Sam brought the bottle to his lips, tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and chugged.

The four of you sat there, in complete shock as Sam continued gulping down the contents of the bottle.

After some time, he popped it off his mouth, and winced as the last gulp traveled down his throat. Sam shook his head and opened his eyes to look at you all with a huge smile on his face.

The room erupted in chaos. Josh jumped on Sam and shook him around. Jake stood up and began screaming and cheering for him. You and Ronnie both fell back on your backs, laughing uncontrollably and holding onto each other for support as the room spun around you.

The five of you got even drunker as the game continued on. You all made an unspoken promise to go easy on Sam, who was definitely feeling the effects of his little stunt.

You learned a lot about the Kiszka siblings that night.

Sam sucked his thumb until he was ten.

Jake and Josh broke their mom’s favorite glass vase and hid it ever since.

Ronnie and Josh both had their first kisses when they were fifteen.

Jake was fourteen. Sam hadn’t kissed anyone yet.

Sam cheated on math tests.

Jake and Josh accidently told Sam that Santa wasn’t real when he was nine and Sam cried.

Jake ate ants on a dare when he was twelve.

Josh “borrowed” from Jake’s money stash to buy weed.

Sam had a crush on his third grade teacher.

Jake slept with his baby blanket until he was eight.

They all fed their childhood dog vegetables under the table at dinner.

With about one shot left in the bottle and Sam significantly drunker than the rest of you, the game came to a close. Jake held out the bottle to Josh and said, “Never have I ever had sex.”

Josh took the bottle from his hands and finished it off.

“Okay, I didn’t need to know that. I’m going to bed,” Ronnie said as she got up and stumbled out of the room.

“You won’t remember tomorrow anyway, Ron,” Josh replied as he climbed into his bed.

Sam crawled over to his bed and started to climb onto it slowly. He stumbled up to it, missing steps and teetering over as he got on. Jake stood up and tucked Sam into bed. He placed the garbage can next to him and rubbed his head.

“Sleep it off, Sammy,” he said before turning back to you.

Jake walked back over to you and held his hand out to you. He pulled you to your feet and led you out of the room. The two of you giggled as you stumbled down the hallway and into the dimly lit kitchen.

Jake grabbed a bunch of water bottles out of the refrigerator and handed one to you.

“Be right back,” he whispered.

While Jake was giving water to his siblings, you chugged the bottle he gave you. After a minute. you heard footsteps behind you and before you knew it, Jake’s hands were under your shirt, hugging you from behind.

“Mmm gimme a kish,” he mumbled into your ear.

You turned your body around to face him. His hands rested on your butt and you pulled him in by the waistband of his pajama pants. You kissed him sloppily, tasting the vodka on his lips and tongue.

You had never been this drunk before. In fact, you had never been drunk, period. But, even though you were drunk, with Jake, you felt safe and comfortable. Even though the alcohol caused your vision to go blurry and your words to slur a bit, you knew you were in good hands with him. He was just as drunk as you were anyway. But regardless, you knew he wouldn’t do anything or try anything that would make you uncomfortable. And if anything were to go wrong or get messy, he would be there for you.

When you closed your eyes, you felt the dizziness hit you. You pushed him back against the counter and leaned your body weight onto him to keep your balance.

His lips on yours felt different than they ever had. They were wet and warm; and his kisses had an undertone of lust.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. You concentrated harder on kissing him. You tangled your hands through his hair and pulled at it as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands traveled down to his pants and you teased the front of him with your fingertips. Jake hummed into the kisses and put his hand on top of yours, moving it to hit the spot he wanted.

He broke away from your lips and tilted his head back. “Fuck,” he whispered, dragging out the word. His eyes rolled back and he brought his head back up. He blinked a few times and brought himself back to reality. He took a deep breath in and moved your hand off him.

“We can’t do this right now, we’re fucked up,” he said slowly as his words slurred over each other ever so slightly. He moved your hand to rest on his chest.

“Mmm, you’re no fun,” you joked with your words also coming out a bit sloppily. You kissed him on the side of the mouth and he smiled a bit.

With Jake still squeezed in between you and the counter, you reached behind him to grab a piece of cold, leftover pizza from the box sitting on the counter. He opened his mouth and you giggled as you held it out to him. He took a bite and chewed it with his mouth open, fully smiling at you as his jaw moved up and down. You alternated taking a bite of your own and letting him get a bite. You both giggled as you ate, trying not to wake up his siblings. And trying to be quiet, of course, only made you laugh harder.

When you finished the pizza, Jake flicked the kitchen light off and you both went back into his bedroom. It was pitch black and the two of you laughed and shushed each other as you tried to find his bed in the darkness.

When you found it, you hopped in and pulled him in. You both laughed as he fell on top of you. Jake dipped his head down to kiss you gently and settled next to you, pulling the covers up over your heads.

He leaned over you and planted little kisses on your face and neck. You giggled as he continued and finally you broke away from him and kissed the tip of his nose. He returned a kiss to your forehead and lifted the blanket up off your heads.

You felt yourself sober up as the cool breeze hit you and as you laid there with him for a bit. Your legs tangled together and he held you close to him as the two of you closed your eyes and gave each other little kisses now and then.

You didn’t feel that dizzy feeling anymore, just a little lingering buzz.

The sounds of Josh lightly snoring began coming from the other side of the room and from farther away you heard hums and mumbles from Sam as he talked in his sleep.

“How do you sleep with them making all that noise?” you giggled.

“Used to it I guess. Just like I’m used to you hitting me in your sleep,” Jake teased.

“I do that?”

Jake laughed, “Yeah, but it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Good. You deserve it because you snore way louder than Josh,” you retorted back to him playfully as you gave him a peck on the lips, and rolled over.

You pressed your back into his chest and grabbed his hand, pulling it on top of you. You felt your eyelids get heavy and the last thing you remember is Jake kissing the back of your head and saying “G’night, Baby.”

Thanks to the alcohol, you slept like a rock that night. The next morning, you woke up to the sounds of Sam groaning and gagging into the garbage can.

You and Jake both sat up simultaneously when you realized what was happening, a slight headache hit you as you got up and opened your eyes fully to the bright morning light.

“Hey, you okay, Sammy?” Jake asked, climbing out of bed and going over to him.

“I should’ve asked for more money. $20 wasn’t worth it,” Sam groaned with his voice muffled by the garbage can surrounding his head.

~~~~~

It was the Monday after Jake’s show you attended at the bar. Jake wasn't in school and didn't answer his phone all day. You saw Josh at lunch and asked him where Jake was. He told you Jake was sick and stayed home for the day.

After school, Josh took you to their house and brought you to the boys room to see Jake. When you walked in, you saw Jake in bed, fast asleep.

The floor by his bed was littered with used tissues and empty water bottles. He had a box of cold medicine, a jar of vapor rub, and half empty box of tissues on the nightstand. A half dranken bottle of Gatorade was sitting in his bed next to him.

“Let me know when you want me to take you back home,” Josh said, closing the door behind him as he left the room.

Jake was cuddled up in blankets and you sat down on the edge of his bed. His cheeks were rosy, his mouth was open just a bit, and his lips were dry from breathing through his mouth. You wiped his hair out of his face and slowly he woke up.

He was confused at first, in a post nap haze, until he realized what was going on.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a tired voice. His voice was nasally and hoarse.

“I missed you today. Josh said you were sick. I wanted to make sure you were okay. What’s wrong?” you said as you stroked the hair on his head back.

He rubbed his face and sighed groggily. He involuntarily let out a small cough as he sighed.

“I’ve had a headache all day, my throat hurts when I swallow, I keep coughing, and I can’t breathe through my nose. My mom said it’s probably from being in the rain on Saturday,”

He was being a giant baby. Zero pain tolerance. But you had to admit- he looked absolutely adorable all cuddled up in bed.

“Poor baby,” you said, half serious, half joking.

He smiled a little as he realized how dramatic he was being. Not to mention you being there made him smile too.

You leaned down to give his cheek a kiss and he pulled back a little.

“Don’t. I don’t want to get you sick,” he said.

“Jake, my tongue was down your throat two days ago and I was in the rain with you. I’m pretty sure whatever you have, will be mine tomorrow,” you said, as you lifted up his covers and crawled into bed next to him.

You held him from behind and gave his shoulders little kisses. Through his shirt you could smell vapor rub on his back and you could only imagine how annoyed he was at his mom for rubbing it on for him.

“Just relax, Baby,” you whispered.

After a few minutes of silence, Jake spoke quietly.

“You know what would probably make me feel better?” he mumbled with his face half smushed into his pillow.

“What?” you asked.

“Can I touch your boobs?”

You let out a laugh through your nose at his request.

“Fine,” you laughed.

Jake turned his body around in bed. This time, he held you from behind. His hand snuck up under your shirt and bra and rested on your chest, rubbing his thumb on your skin.

“Feel better?” you asked sarcastically.

“Mhmm,” he said into your neck, smiling, “They got bigger.”

You smiled, rolled your eyes, and placed your hand on top of his.

Within minutes, Jake’s hand was still and he was fast asleep.

April 2014:

“You’re absolutely disgusting,” you laughed, crawling off him and extending your hand to lift him to his feet.

Before fully leaving the wooded area, you stopped him.

“What if,” you began, “I gave you an early birthday present?”

You ran your index finger down his chest over his hoodie. A small smile formed on his face and his tongue traced over his bottom lip as he looked at you. His eyes squinted and scanned your face, trying to decipher what you meant. He was trying to read your mind but he couldn’t. He had no idea what you were about to do or say.

You walked him over to the rock and he pushed his back against it.

“You said this is a spot for firsts right?” you asked as you placed soft kisses to his cheek and jawline.

“Yeah…” he said hesitantly.

You continued kissing his jawline and lowered your lips down his neck. You broke away and gave him a soft kiss on his lips before kneeling down in front of him. You felt the coolness of the ground on your knees and leaves left over from autumn crunched underneath them.

You looked up at him and bit your lip as you smiled.

Jake’s mouth opened and he started breathing heavily when he realized what your intentions were. You reached for his belt buckle and started undoing it.

His chest moved as he breathed in deep before he spoke. “Here? Now? Fuck, Baby.”

The two of you had talked about this before. It was only a matter of time before it happened. Jake had always wanted it and left it up to you to make the move for it. And at that moment, it was the perfect time, and the perfect place. You were surrounded by the privacy of the overgrown woods and you were far enough away from his house that you couldn’t be heard.

“Mhmm, first times, right?” you said as you undid the buttons of his pants and pulled them down.

He nodded quickly and swallowed hard. As he did, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His whole body tensed up, he tilted his head back, and his hands tangled themselves in your hair as you got to work on him.

When you were done, Jake brought you to your feet, pulled up his pants, and fastened his belt. He wiped your face with his palm before kissing you softly.

“I guess that beats first kiss, doesn’t it?” he said, smiling. He had little pink and red patches on his cheeks and neck that faded as he caught his breath.

“It better!” you laughed.

He let out a laugh from his nose and said, “Come on, we’ve been gone too long. My parents are going to get suspicious.”

Together you walked back to civilization, with him leading the way.

May 2014:

You crawled over him, got out of bed, and started walking out of the room. When you got to the door, you turned around and looked at him.

“You coming or what?” You giggled.

Jake jumped out of bed to follow you to the bathroom. You’ve never seen him move faster.

Jake caught up to you in the doorway and hugged you from behind. His arms wrapped around your waist and snuck around your stomach, squeezing you against his body. You giggled as the two of you walked down the hallway and into the bathroom.

You brushed your teeth and Jake left the bathroom with a toothbrush in his mouth. He returned with fresh towels in his hands and placed them on the counter.

Jake shut the door behind him and rinsed out his mouth before pulling you close to him again. He started sprinkling your face with little kisses playfully, smiling in between each one.

He broke away from you with one last dramatic “Mwah,” to your cheek and leaned into the shower to turn the water on.

The steam from the water began to fill up the bathroom, causing fog to appear on the mirrors and window.

“Can I take this off?” Jake asked, his hands sliding along the hem of the tshirt you were wearing.

You nodded and lifted your hands up over your head as he pulled the shirt off you. He tossed it over by the door and pulled you close to him. You wrapped your arms around this neck and he held both hands behind your back. His eyes traveled down from your eyes to your chest as he fought back a smile.

“Jake?” you asked, almost in a whisper.

“Yeah?” he asked, bringing his eyes back to meet yours.

“You know I love it when you ask before you do stuff. But, you really don’t have to anymore.”

He looked into your eyes and nodded slowly. You could see him trying to make sense of what you just said in his head.

“Okay. But just promise you’ll tell me if-”

“I will.” you interrupted, already knowing what the second half of his sentence was.

You closed the gap between the two of you and pulled him in for a kiss. You tasted the mint in his mouth as you slid your tongue across his bottom lip. As the two of you continued, you felt a little bit more of Jake against your thigh.

You broke away from his lips, looked down at the obvious situation in his boxers, and giggled.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” he laughed as his cheeks turned a shade of pink. He was definitely a little embarrassed but the cute smile on his face still made you melt.

“I could take care of it for you if you want?” you suggested, teasing your hand dangerously close to where he wanted you the most.

“Yes,” he breathed out, “Please.”

You backed him up against the door and his body hit it with a light thud. The steam from the shower fogged up the entire room and as you pulled away from Jake’s face, clouds of water vapor separated the two of you.

You took care of Jake and when that was done, he led you to the shower and slid open the shower door for you.

“Ladies first,” he said as you stepped in.

He followed behind and slid the glass door closed. You got under the hot running water and let it relax your muscles for a moment before the two of you switched places. He let the water fall on his head, getting it all wet. He shook it out like a dog and droplets flew everywhere. You giggled and flinched as the water got in your face.

He extended his hand out to the shelf in the shower and grabbed a bottle of face wash. You cupped your hand for him and he put a few pumps in them. You rubbed your hands together until they were sudsy and reached out for his face. He closed his eyes and scrunched up his nose as your hands massaged the soap into his cheeks. You pushed his hair back off his forehead, and rubbed your hands over his entire face. His facial muscles relaxed as you continued. With his eyes still closed, you turned him around to rinse it off and then gave yourself a few more pumps to wash your own face with.

He stepped behind you and squeezed some shampoo in his hands. You stepped under the stream of water.

“Tip your head back for me,” he said as he rubbed the shampoo in his hands together.

You did as he said and let the water run over your face, washing the cleanser off as you felt Jake’s fingertips massage shampoo into your scalp.

You hummed and he let out a satisfied chuckle.

“Feels good?” he asked as his fingers moved in little circles and worked their way to the base of your head.

“Mhmm,” you hummed in response as he put more pressure on your scalp.

“Good,” he said softly. “Just close your eyes and relax, Baby.”

His fingers dug into your scalp, scratching and massaging it perfectly. It felt amazing.

After a bit of time, he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around so you were facing him. He lifted your chin to tilt your head back as the water rinsed the shampoo out of your hair. Jake ran his fingers through your hair to make sure it was all out and when it was, you opened your eyes to meet his for the first time.

The two of you stood there for a moment just staring at each other in silence- the only sound was the running water coming from the shower head above. You silently admired each other. You admired how you both took care of each other in different intimate ways. You each knew how to make the other feel good. You didn’t know it then, but you were both teaching each other and learning how to love.

He squeezed shampoo into his hands again and rubbed it through his hair quickly. You switched places with him so he could rinse it out.

He tilted his head back and opened his mouth, letting it fill up with water. He looked at you with water filled cheeks and the tiniest smile on his closed lips. Without warning, he opened his lips slightly and released the water out to you like a fountain.

The warm water from his mouth hit your chest and you laughed out the word “Ew!”

You snuck behind him, faced the shower head, and filled your mouth with the hot water. You turned to him with your mouth full of water. He turned his face to the side and closed one eye, anticipating what was going to come next.

“I deserve it, go ahead,” he laughed as you spit out a stream of water onto his cheek.

He laughed and rinsed it off. He moved in toward you and grabbed you behind the back. He gave you a gentle but wet kiss on the lips.

You grabbed a bottle of conditioner from the shelf and held it out for him. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“You like your hair long don’t you?” you questioned.

He laughed and replied with a cautious “Yeah,”

“Then turn around,” you commanded.

He turned around and you squirted a little bit of conditioner into your hands and rubbed it into the ends of his hair. You grabbed his shoulders and turned him around and out of the stream of the running water as you combed conditioner through your own hair.

“Leave it in for a little bit,” you instructed him and he nodded.

He grabbed two bottles of body wash from the shelf and held them up for you.

“I’m going to assume you’d rather use my sister’s,” he laughed, handing you a pink bottle while he kept a black one for himself.

He picked up one of the fresh washcloths from the edge of the shower and got it wet. He held it out and you squeezed the pink soap onto it. He rubbed the washcloth around in his hand until it had suds and he brought it to your neck.

He rubbed your neck and shoulders with it and the smell of strawberries filled the shower. He ran the washcloth down your chest and to your stomach, rubbing in circles and massaging all the right parts. He moved the washcloth to your lower back and you turned around for him. He moved your hair to one side of your shoulder and swiped the washcloth over your back a few times. He moved you under the running water, allowing you to rinse the conditioner out of your hair and the soap off your body.

You reached down next to him to pick up the second washcloth and ran it under the water. He squeezed the black bottle and green gel came out onto the washcloth. You rubbed the washcloth around in your hand until it was nice and bubbly. You then rubbed his chest and neck with it. The drips of bubbles trailed down his stomach and over the bumps of his ab muscles. You used your free hand to rub along his stomach and you felt his muscles tighten with your touch. He turned around and you got his back and behind his ears.

You pulled him under the stream of water and let the conditioner and body wash run off of him. You wrapped your hands around his stomach and pressed your chest to his back, taking in the manly scent of the body wash on him and hugging him from behind. Just letting the water run in between you as you breathed in his scent.

The two of you swapped washcloths and got the other parts of your own bodies until you were both completely clean.

You rinsed and rung out the washcloths and Jake reached behind you to turn off the water. He slid the shower door open and stepped out first. He grabbed a towel from the counter and held it open for you. You walked over to him and he wrapped you in the towel, rubbing up and down your arms to warm you up. He opened the second towel and wrapped it around his waist.

You dried yourselves off and changed into your clothes in his room. You towel dried your hair and threw the towels into the hamper by the closet.

“You hungry? I’ll make you chocolate chip pancakes,” he offered as he threw a shirt over his head of damp hair.

“Is this your way of thanking me for getting you off in the bathroom?” you teased.

“It’s part of it. Just wait until after breakfast,” he smiled, wiggled his eyebrows at you, and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek as he walked out of the room and down the hallway towards the kitchen.

~~~~~

School was out for a four day weekend. Jake had saved up just enough money to take you on a getaway of your own. It wasn’t far and it wasn’t fancy, but it was you and Jake.

He booked three days at the Bavarian Inn in the main part of town.

The two of you spent every second of the stay together, uninterrupted.

It was something you both had always wanted. You had a king sized bed, privacy, and room service. For two eighteen year olds, that was all you needed.

The trip gave you opportunities to learn more about yourselves and each other.

You learned more about each others’ bodies and what each of you liked and didn’t like.

You learned that you hated when he left the cap off the toothpaste and when he peed with the bathroom door open.

He learned that he hated how your makeup and hair products took up half the bathroom counter and how you didn’t turn the bathroom fan on while you showered.

But you loved every second of it. You loved putting the toothpaste cap back on and closing the bathroom door while he stood there in front of the toilet, smiling at you like an idiot.

He loved pushing your makeup off to the side so he could sit on the counter of a steamy bathroom and talk to you while you blew dry your hair.

You both loved the quiet. The privacy. The ability to say and do whatever you wanted together. The bed. The space. The fact that there were no siblings, no parents, and no needing to go home in a few hours.

It gave you a taste of adulthood. A taste both of you liked a lot.

You laid in bed on the last morning of your stay, playing with each other's fingers and enjoying the quiet morning when you spoke.

“Do you think that one day, we could do this?” You asked.

“Do what?”

“You know, like, live together? Get an apartment or something, just us? Be able to do this every day?”

“Yeah, we could, couldn’t we?” he said as he envisioned the future and realized that it was a realistic possibility.

Jake needed that. He needed the thought of something realistic for his future. He’d been dreaming for too long.

June 2014:

Josh arrived back home around midnight that night. When Josh got back home, Jake was sitting on the couch in the basement, his elbows on his knees, and his head hanging low with his hands in his hair.

Josh walked slowly down the stairs, making just enough noise for Jake to know someone was there.

“Go away,” Jake said, not even bothering to look up at who it was.

“You really want me to go away? Because I’m pretty sure I’m all you have right now.” Josh spoke harshly.

Jake looked up at him with red, swollen eyes and then looked back down.

“Sam said you threw up,” Josh said timidly. He approached the couch as if Jake was a wild animal who Josh was trying to get to take food out of his hands.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jake replied bluntly.

“You don’t have to. But when you do want to talk about it- I’m here,” Josh replied as he walked over to Jake and sat next to him on the couch.

The couch dipped down next to Jake as Josh took a seat. Josh waited there for Jake to crack. He knew his brother. He knew it was coming. He knew he was being stubborn and holding it in. Josh was tired and what he wanted more than anything was to go to bed. But he knew Jake was going to need him. The two of them sat there in silence for the better part of an hour until finally, Jake let it all go.

All Josh could do was grab him and hold him close as Jake cried on his shoulder. The shoulder that the scent of you lingered on since you did the same thing when Josh took you home. Jake smelled it and the memories of you hit him, causing more tears and the holding back of gags. When Jake opened his eyes and saw your black mascara smudged on Josh’s shirt, he cried harder realizing how much he hurt you.

After the worst of it was over, Josh pulled back from him and helped him catch his breath and breathe deeply. Josh calmed him down considerably and helped him get it all out.

Josh sat in the basement with Jake for hours while he told him everything. Everything.

At that point, Josh knew it all. He knew about the big moments as well as the little ones. He knew about all the highs and lows. He knew about all the feelings of love as well as heartbreak. He knew secrets that you and Jake kept between each other. Josh planned to hold onto these secrets for years, thinking he would take them all to the grave.

By the time Jake got it all out, it was almost 4 in the morning. Josh got up off the couch and reached his hand out to Jake.

“Come on, get up. Let’s go to bed.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“Everything in that room reminds me of her. My sheets smell like her. Her clothes are in the drawers. Her pictures are on the walls. I, I tried already- I can’t go in there. I can’t even close my fucking eyes without seeing her face. My head just keeps replaying what I said to her. I can’t believe I fucking said that to her.”

“Honestly,” Josh began, “I can’t believe you said that either.”

Jake titled his head back and stared at the ceiling. He bit his lip and shook his head, still in disbelief of the events of the night as his mind, once again, replayed the conversation he had in his bedroom with you, wishing he could turn back time.

Josh told Jake he’d be right back, went upstairs, took the blanket and pillow off his own bed, and brought them downstairs to Jake.

“Just try to sleep. And let me know if you need anything, okay? Love you.” Josh said as he handed Jake a bottle of water and made him drink some of it.

Jake didn’t reply but Josh didn’t expect him to. Josh started walking up the stairs but stopped when he heard Jake call to him.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you just, can you make sure she’s okay for me? Please?” Jake asked, his voice cracked as he struggled to even get the words out.

Josh nodded, “I will.”

“Thanks,” Jake paused. “For everything. Love you too.”

Josh gave him a soft smile, continued up the stairs, and flicked off the basement light.

When Josh got into his room, he grabbed the blankets off of Jake’s bed and laid down on his own bed. He was surprised when he heard a whisper coming from Sam’s side of the room.

“Hey,” Sam asked quietly, “Are they okay?”

“Only time will tell,” Josh said before closing his eyes and finally getting to fall asleep.

Jake didn’t sleep at all that night. He stayed awake for almost 3 days straight. When he did sleep, it was only short periods of time and all he saw and dreamt about was you.

Jake slept downstairs for the next week. When Jake finally returned to sleep in his bed, Josh pretended that he didn’t hear Jake crying every night.

December 2013:

It was December 27, the day after the accidental Christmas sleepover situation. Jake and Josh were in their bedroom. Josh laid in his bed with headphones in, half asleep and listening to music. Jake laid on his bed, on his phone when Sam walked in slowly.

“Hey Jake?” Sam asked, leaning against the door frame to their bedroom.

“Yeah?” Jake replied casually, not looking up from his phone.

“Remember what I, what I, uh, asked you last night?” Sam said shyly.

Jake raised his head to look up at his little brother. Sam was looking at his feet, too embarrassed to even look at Jake.

“No, what did you ask?” Jake answered with a small smile forming on his face. He was playing dumb and they both knew it.

“Don’t make me say it,”

“Sam, I don’t know what you asked me last night,”

“Jake…”

“Sammy…”

“I asked you, how to, you know,”

Jake’s smile lit up his whole face and the light from his phone screen casted shadows over his eyes, making him look a little evil. He had been waiting for this moment to happen. He loved seeing Sam, who always had smart remarks, vulnerable and in need of advice on a topic that he didn’t know anything about.

“How to what?” he asked.

“How to,” Sam began and then his voice trailed off and he got quieter, “kiss a girl.”

Jake let out a laugh and sat up in bed. “Sit down, let’s talk.”

Sam sat on the edge of Jake’s bed and Jake began.

“So, for starters, when you like a girl, you’re going to get this feeling. I can’t really describe it, and it’ll hit you out of nowhere. It’s like, every time you look at her, or even think about her, you’ll feel something inside you kind of light up. She’ll make you feel like you’re alive, more alive than you’ve ever felt before.”

Sam bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows, “And you feel that with her?” he asked.

Jake sighed, “Yeah. Every time she looks at me I feel it. Every time I hear her voice. Every time I touch her. It never gets old.”

Jake looked down and smiled to himself before continuing.

“So when that feeling comes, I don’t know you’ll just have this want. A want to feel her in a different way. A want to have her close to you. A want to… kiss her.”

“Okay. But how do you actually do it?” Sam asked.

“When you’re ready to kiss her, you’ll know. You have to be ready, though. Don’t rush it. Don’t push it. And you have to ask her. You have to ask her before you do anything. Dad told you that, right?”

Sam nodded.

“And if you get the okay from her, you just lean into her, turn your head a little, close your eyes, and then kiss her. And when your lips hit hers, something will take over. I don’t know why and I don’t know how but it just will. You’ll know what to do. And if she’s the right girl, you’ll feel that alive feeling when it happens. It’ll start in your chest and then go through your entire body. It’s adrenaline I guess. Hormones and shit.”

“Were you nervous?”

Jake laughed, “I have never been more nervous in my entire life. But the first one is always the hardest, ya know?”

Sam nodded and let out a “Hm.” He pursed his lips and looked down, somewhat in defeat.

“Hey,” Jake started, “It’ll happen one day. You’re young, Sam. You have your whole life ahead of you to kiss girls, or guys, or whoever you’re into.”

Sam let out a light laugh as Jake nudged him with his arm a little.

“You have to make me one promise though,” he said.

“What?” Sam asked.

“You have to stop with the jokes. And the gagging noises. And the grossed out look on your face every time she’s over and you see us doing stuff. Especially now that I know you’re not completely disgusted by it.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Fine,” he sighed.

Jake continued, “And you know you can come to me for anything, right? Even if I do tease you a little about it?”

Sam smiled, “Yeah. Thanks.”

Jake grabbed Sam’s head and messed up his hair as Sam started to get up.

“Oh, one more question,” Sam asked on his way out the door.

“Yeah?”

“What does a blowjob feel like?”

“Google it,” Jake laughed and picked up Sam’s phone that he left behind. He threw it at Sam and Sam caught it.

Sam laughed and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Jake laid back down and wondered the same thing himself.

A minute went by and Josh spoke.

“It feels good by the way.”

May 2014:

Josh came home from prom weekend late Sunday night.

Jake was in the boys’ room by himself, laying in bed, texting, and eating chips straight out of the bag when the door to the boys bedroom flung open with full force.

“Hello Jacob,” Josh said slyly, giving him a suggestive smirk.

Jake looked up from his phone and met eyes with Josh who was walking towards his own bed. Jake’s eyes followed him. Both of them knew what eachother was thinking.

Josh knew what happened. Jake knew that Josh knew. Neither of them told each other. But they knew.

It was almost as if it was a contest to see who would crack a full smile first.

Jake lost the contest.

The second Jake’s lips parted and broke out into a smile, Josh jumped onto Jake’s bed and sat on top of him.

Josh immediately began making obnoxious thrusting movements on the bed, on top of Jake.

“Oh yeahhh, Baby,” he teased in a deep voice as the bed shook underneath him.

“Oh, Jake, yes right there! Don’t stop!” he teased again, this time in a high pitched voice.

“Get off me you freak!” Jake laughed as he pushed Josh off him. With the push, Josh rolled off of Jake and his feet hit their bedroom floor once again.

Josh grabbed the bag of chips out of Jake’s hands and threw himself on his own bed as both their laughter faded.

He dug his hand into the bag of chips and spoke, “Feel any different?” he asked, popping a chip into his mouth.

“Kind of,” Jake admitted, “It sort of feels like I’m in on this big secret now. I can’t really explain it,”

Josh nodded. Josh knew what he meant, having experienced this for himself too.

“Do Mom and Dad know?” Josh asked.

“Fuck no!” Jake answered quickly, “I think Sam knows though,”

“Sam knows what?” Sam asked, entering the room and walking over to the dresser by his bed.

“Nothing. Just that we have a gig next week, that’s all,” Jake answered quickly, covering up the conversation he was just having with Josh.

“Oh, yeah. I know,” Sam answered as he opened the top drawer of the dresser.

Sam dug around in his dresser quietly. Jake and Josh looked at each other silently, and then looked back at Sam, who was clearly trying to eavesdrop.

After a few moments of silence, Josh spoke again.

“So was it good?” he asked with his voice just above a whisper.

Jake looked back over at Josh with a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“Amazing.”

Sam turned around instantly and pointed his finger at Jake.

“Aha! You did have sex! I knew it!” Sam called out, proud of himself for coming to that conclusion but also foolishly forgetting that the door to their bedroom was open.

“SAM SHUT THE FUCK UP!” The twins both shouted in unison.

Jake rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath as he got up, grabbed the bag of chips from Josh’s hands, and laid back down on his own bed.

Josh pulled out his phone and typed out a text to Jake, trying not to catch Sam’s attention.

JOSH: By the way, you should probably tell Dad.

Jake didn’t reply. He just looked at Josh, who was looking back at him with a serious expression. Josh began typing again.

JOSH: He’s not gonna be mad. I promise.

JOSH: Just do it now. Before Sam does.

Jake looked at the messages and then over at Josh again and sighed. He got up out of bed and walked out of the room.

“Walk of shame,” Sam said, adding a little “tsk tsk,” after.

That night, all three boys went to sleep close to midnight.

The late night thoughts got to each of them.

Jake felt whole. He felt good. He felt like a man now. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He was able to have mature conversations with his older brother and father now. He could understand them. They could understand him. Plus, he knew he made a good choice with how and when he did it. The wait was worth it.

Sam felt curious. Still not even having kissed anyone yet, he wondered what his brothers felt. He couldn’t even begin to know. He hadn’t even taken that first step. The hardest one- and he wasn’t even close to it yet. He wondered if he would ever get to that step.

Josh felt conflicted. He was happy for Jake. Seeing his twin brother so in love made his heart fill up. But he was jealous. He didn’t get to have what Jake had. He hadn’t experienced “love” yet. He regretted his first time. Her family moved away last year. He didn’t even know where she was now. He wanted to feel what Jake felt. Usually, he always felt how Jake felt. But for the first time in his life, he couldn’t. He could see it on Jake though and he just wondered, would he ever feel that way? Would he ever have that? Ever?

June 2014:

Jake had been living in the basement for the past three days. He hadn’t slept. He hadn’t eaten. He hadn’t showered. All he did was lay there in Josh’s blanket, watch tv with a blank stare, and cry at night.

Kelly and Karen talked amongst themselves and came up with a plan in an attempt to get him moving a little. They figured Josh would be the best one to talk to him. He could tell him things without really telling him things. Twins.

Josh went downstairs one afternoon and sat down next to Jake on the couch.

“Moms washing your sheets and then me, her, and Ronnie are gonna go out for a little. Dads gonna take Sam out too. So… if you want to do anything by yourself, you could, you know?”

Jake knew what he meant.

Jake nodded and turned his back to Josh, covering himself with the blanket again.

Josh went back upstairs and Jake laid there and waited to hear the sounds of two cars leaving the driveway.

After a few minutes of silence, he sat up. He listened for any noise and there was nothing. For the first time since October, he was actually completely alone.

He stood up and looked around himself for a second before heading upstairs.

The house was still and silent, which contrasted to its normal busy and bustling energy.

He peeked into his room to see that his sheets, blankets, and pillows were off his bed. He went into the laundry room and opened the lid of the running washing machine. He watched the soap and bubbles slosh through his bed sheets.

He grabbed some clothes from a basket of clean clothes and headed for the bathroom. A white shirt and black sweatpants. The clothes were Josh’s but he didn’t care. He’d been wearing the same clothes for three days and he wasn’t ready to face his bedroom yet. He knew what he’d find when he opened the drawers.

Jake walked into the bathroom and turned the shower onto the hottest setting.

He let it reach its full temperature and stepped in. He stood there with his head down and his eyes closed, just letting the water nearly burn his body. It hurt. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to feel pain on something besides his heart. He wanted to hurt himself for what he did. He wanted to punish himself.

After a while, he couldn’t take it anymore. He turned the temperature down and properly washed himself, head to toe. It felt good.

He spotted Ronnie’s pink bottle of shower gel. He looked at it and thought for a second. He shouldn’t.

But he couldn’t stop himself.

He picked up the bottle and opened it. He lifted it to his nose and instantly regretted his decision.

He felt his heart sink as the smell of the strawberry body wash brought back memories. She had used it a few times there before. It reminded him of her and how she smelled when she was with him at home.

He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. It took all the mental strength he had to put the bottle back down.

A small wave of pride rushed through him. This was a step. A baby step, but a step nonetheless.

He finished showering and threw on Josh’s clothes. Before leaving the bathroom, he took the pink strawberry body wash bottle and tossed it in the garbage can.

By the time he was done in the shower, he went back to the laundry room to see his sheets were finished being washed. He opened the lid and peeked inside. The sheets were wet, but clean.

He grabbed the detergent from the shelf above the machine and poured more in there. He hit the wash button again and watched the water fill up before closing the lid.

He walked into the kitchen to see some of his favorite snacks conveniently placed on the counter. For the first time in days, he felt hungry.

He grabbed a bag of pretzels and went downstairs. Right before opening the basement door again, he stopped. He looked down the hallway towards his bedroom. It was a straight shot down the hall and he could see his bed and area of the room perfectly from where he was. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Another day,” he thought to himself as he turned his vision back to the basement door and opened it, heading back down for the remainder of the night.

~~~~~

The next day, Jake returned to his bedroom with a cardboard box in his hand. His bed was made and his sheets were clean. But he was dreading what he knew he had to do next.

He stood in the doorway, hesitant to enter.

“You coming in?” Josh asked from his bed as he looked up at Jake.

Jake walked into his room for the first time since the argument. He looked at josh and then looked over at Sam, who was reading a book in his little corner area of the bedroom.

“Get out,” Jake said bluntly.

Sam rolled his eyes, got up, and mumbled something under his breath as he walked past Jake and closed the door behind him.

Jake placed the box down on his bed. Josh already knew what Jake’s intentions were.

He got out of bed and stood next to Jake. The two of them stared at the empty box that was sitting on Jake’s bed.

“Pictures, clothes, anything girly you find,” Jake said.

Josh nodded and the two of them got started.

They worked in silence for a bit. Jake cleared his drawers of her clothes and stuff she had left behind, not realizing it was the last time she’d be in the house. Josh took pictures off the walls surrounding Jake’s bed. He took good looks at them as he peeled the tape off and placed them in a pile.

After a while, Josh broke the silence.

“I missed you,” he said quietly, not making eye contact with Jake.

“Yeah,” Jake whispered, “me too.”

“You wanna do something later? Just us?”

Jake nodded, “Yeah,” he sighed, “Gonna go talk to her and give this stuff back so, after, okay? I’m probably gonna need you,”

Josh pushed his body into Jake’s, “I’m always here for you, little brother,”

“By five minutes,” Jake laughed. It was the first time Jake had smiled in days.

~~~~~

Jake continued to skip English class for that next week so he wouldn’t see her. He avoided her in the hallways. He went different routes so he wouldn’t run into her. He waited after school for her to leave before he left himself so he wouldn't see her in the parking lot. What he was doing was obvious. He wasn’t subtle about it.

On Sunday morning, Jake laid in his bed when his mom came into his room and sat down on the edge. It had been over a week since the breakup and Jake was finally back in his own bed.

“I got an email from your English teacher,” she said, “you stopped going to class and haven’t turned in almost two week's worth of work. You’re failing.”

Jake sighed and turned over, facing the wall.

“I don’t care,” Jake sighed, pulling the covers over his head.

“You should care,” she said firmly, “He said you won’t graduate unless you turn in that final essay. If you do a good job on it, he’ll let you pass the class with a D.”

The essay was due tomorrow, on a book Jake didn’t even read. He was supposed to start it last week with her right after they wrote out their future plans for the graduation program booklet. But obviously, that didn’t end up happening.

The book and the essay were the last things on Jake’s mind. He was decent at reading and writing, but stuff like this took time for him. There’s no way he could do a good job on it and turn it in by Monday.

That day, he tried to read the book. He looked up the plot online. He tried to find or think of an essay idea to write about. He had nothing. He couldn’t focus on anything. Every sentence in the book reminded him of her. He could associate every word in the book with her. He couldn’t even get through one page without starting to feel his heart drop.

He was going to fail. And since he didn’t have plans for next year anyway, who cared about repeating the grade, right?

On Monday, he walked into English class with his hood covering his head. It was his first time back in class after a week of skipping. He sat down in the corner of the room, opposite from where he normally sat. He crossed his arms and lowered his head so only his nose and eyes could be seen.

At the end of class, everyone was instructed to turn their essays in before leaving.

Jake had nothing.

He waited until everyone left the room and then walked out without turning in any work.

“I can’t pass you, Jake,” his teacher warned sympathetically as he walked out.

“See you next year, Mr. H.” Jake said in a monotone voice.

Friday was the last day of school. The final essays were being passed back to the class, one by one.

Each student in class smiled and whispered as they all flipped their papers over to see their grades.

To Jake’s surprise, a typed and stapled essay appeared on his desk, face down.

“I could only give you a B since you turned it in late. But you did a good job. It’ll give you the final grade you need to graduate,” his teacher said quietly as he passed his desk.

Jake looked at the paper on his desk and then up at him.

“I- I didn’t…” he stuttered. He couldn’t even finish his sentence before his teacher walked away to pass the rest of the essays out.

Jake flipped over the paper to see his name typed at the top and a B+ written in the corner of the paper in red ink.

He skimmed the essay and flipped the pages quickly. It met every requirement. Three pages. Double spaced. Cited Sources. Everything.

The bell rang and everyone got up to leave. They all said their last goodbyes to their teacher before heading to their next class. Again, Jake waited for everyone else to leave before getting up.

Jake approached his teacher's desk and before he could get any closer, he stopped him and said, “Jake, I don’t know what happened and I don’t want to know what happened. But, she’s good to you. Don’t lose her.”

Jake bit the inside of his cheek, rolled the paper up in his hand, and looked down at it.

“I already did,” he whispered, starting to walk out of class.

“Good luck next year, Jake. Wherever life takes you. I have a feeling life’s got big plans for you.”

Jake gave him a small smile and waved as he left the classroom for the last time.

As he entered the hallway, he looked to the right to see a shadow around the corner quickly disappear.

That night Jake got home to see two gray and red cap and gown sets laid out on the family’s couch.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and sent a text.

6:45 PM: Thanks.

She got the text. She didn’t reply.

It took everything she had in her not to reply. And she didn’t know it, but it took everything he had in him not to type “Love you,” at the end.

November 1, 2014:

It was November 1, 2014. You and Jake’s one year anniversary.

After the initial shock of you going to New York for college wore off, Jake came around after some time and offered to try long distance starting in the fall. You were glad that he was willing to try and glad that the relationship you had with him was still strong. After all, what couple doesn’t get into a fight here and there?

The summer you and Jake spent together was indescribable. You spent almost every day together.

You rode bikes, went camping, got ice cream, and went swimming. Usually, you would stay out all day and all night with him and then sneak each other back into your rooms in the early morning hours for a few hours of sleep.

You went to his family’s lakehouse cabin with him and Josh a few times for a few days at a time in between his gigs.

He started playing more outdoor shows in Michigan and some surrounding states for fairs and auto shows. Sometimes, the two of you would drive a couple hours together for him to play a show for twenty people, and then you’d stay in a crappy motel for the night or you’d sleep in the car as he drove back home. You were doing it, you were seeing the world with him. Little by little.

The summer quickly came to an end though and before you knew it, your parents' car was packed with your clothes and dorm supplies, and you were set to head off to New York. Without him.

The last time you saw him in person was outside his house at 6 am on an August morning. You were saying your last goodbye to him before you and your parents road tripped to New York to drop you off at school.

That was the last time you hugged him. The last time you kissed him. The last time you felt him.

He hugged you tighter than he ever had before and you did the same to him. Neither of you wanted to let the other go. You knew it would be the last time you saw him for a while.

You’ll never forget him standing there in the middle of his driveway, in pajama pants, wiping tears off his face as the car drove away.

He would have come for the drive if he could. But he couldn’t. You understood though. Sam was starting high school in a few days and the band had become busier than ever with shows, rehearsals, and writing and recording sessions scheduled by the little management company that picked them up over the summer.

As summer ended and fall began, the two of you had gotten busy. You with school, and him with the band. Things were picking up for them and you couldn’t have been happier for Jake. The dream he thought he lost forever was back in his grasp and he was achieving it slowly and surely. And regardless of your busy schedules, you always made time for each other where you could fit it. The two of you relied on texts, facetime, and phone calls to stay in touch. You mostly texted throughout the day and called each other when you both had a free afternoon or night.

Thanksgiving break was coming up and you planned to go home to spend the entire long weekend with your family and Jake. You had been counting down the days for weeks.

You had just got out of class for the day and you were texting Jake on the walk back to your dorm. The two of you planned a little Facetime dinner date for your anniversary. It wouldn’t be much, but it was all you could do. Besides, your roommate already had plans for the weekend to stay with her boyfriend, who went to school in Brooklyn, so you had the room to yourself.

Yellow, brown, and orange leaves blew through the fall air and crunched under your shoes as you walked. The sun was just about to set for the night and it left a golden hue in the sky. New York City in the fall was absolutely perfect.

4:47 PM: I just got out of class. I’m gonna get food real quick so give me like ten minutes.

He replied instantly.

4:48 PM: Okay, talk to you soon my love.

Your heart skipped a beat for a second at his words. My love.

You smiled at your phone as your heart filled with warmth. In just a few minutes, you’d be able to hear his voice. And in just a few weeks, you would be seeing him in real life. You could practically feel him already.

You looked up from your phone and continued down the sidewalk. You turned the corner to see your dorm building in the distance.

As you got closer to your building, you reached down into your bag to find your key. When you looked back up, you saw someone leaning against the building in a denim jacket and a knitted hat with a red and black flannel shirt peeking out from underneath. It seemed to be a guy with wavy, shoulder length brown hair that fell from the hat. He was looking down at his phone.

There was no way.

You had pictured his face on strangers in the city a million times. You did double takes at guys with long hair you passed in the streets. There was no way it was him. Your mind was playing tricks on you again.

But then you saw it.

He put his head down and grabbed the back of his neck. It was that same little movement he always did when he was nervous.

Jake.

You started walking faster until you got closer to him. You spoke loud enough for him to hear. At the sound of your voice, his head shot up and a smile lit up his face instantly.

“What are you doing here?” you shouted. You barely even finished what you were saying when he picked you up off the ground and spun you around in his arms.

He placed you down on the sidewalk and held your face in his palms.

“Hi Baby,” he whispered, giving you the sweetest kiss on the lips.

You broke away from him and looked at him in disbelief. He looked different that he had the last time you saw him.

You grabbed his chin to feel stubble covering it. You held onto his hair and felt the new length of it at your fingertips. It was almost touching his shoulders at that point. It was almost like you were feeling to see if he was real or not. And he was. He was a little different. But he was real. And he was Jake.

“How did you? When did you?” you asked, barely even able to form a full sentence.

“My flight landed at 2, I took a couple trains, walked around a little, got lost for a second, and then boom- found it,” he explained as he looked up at your building.

“You did this for me? I’m coming home for Thanksgiving in two weeks!” you said, still in shock.

“I did it for us,” he smiled, “Plus, one year is a big deal. At least that's what my mom said.”

“Jacob Thomas Kiszka. You are unbelievable. You know that, right?”

He raised his eyebrows, bit his bottom lip, smiled, and nodded.

“Happy one year anniversary, Y/N,” he said softly.

“Happy anniversary, Jake,” you replied.

He smiled at you softly before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. His lips were soft and his kiss was sweet, just like they always were.

You continued kissing him and the two of you deepened your kisses. You grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in towards you. He pulled you in by your back. You kissed him hard, not even caring that you were in the middle of the sidewalk.

The feeling of his lips on yours after two months was like none other. It was like no time had passed between the two of you. As you kissed him, memories of every single kiss you shared with him flooded your brain.

The first kiss in his garage.

The kiss in his car after the two of you made things official.

The kiss in his bedroom on Christmas.

The kiss in the snow when he told you he loved you.

The kiss on the cliffside when you watched the stars.

The kiss in the rain outside of the bar you went to see him play a show at.

The kiss in the kitchen of his family's cabin on his birthday.

The kiss right before you gave him your virginity.

Every. Single. One.

He pulled back after a moment and gave you one more softer kiss.

“Love you,” he whispered.

“Love you, too,” you replied.

You stood there staring at each other for a moment until Jake broke the silence.

“So,” he said as he held his hands on the small of your back, pulling you in towards him slightly, “I’m here all weekend. Show me around.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him into your building, now extra thankful your roommate had left for the weekend already. Both of you knew what your first activity together would be.

After you and Jake had a nice little reunion in your room, you took him out to see the city you’ve lived in for the past two months. You introduced him to your friends and showed him all your favorite places around the city. You got dirty water hot dogs, walked through Washington Square Park, and you showed him Times Square. It was just a bit more of the world you were seeing together.

At night you took him to all the bars that didn’t card and he judged the bands that played 45 minute sets of cover songs. The two of you drank beer and took shots until your vision got blurry. As you drank more, he got handsy and you got giggly; and to be honest, neither of you minded one bit.

After the last call, the two of you ventured back into the streets and stumbled back to your dorm to squeeze into your tiny twin sized bed, just like you used to do in his room back home. He laid on his back and you put your head on his chest. You lifted your leg up and hitched it over his hip. He pulled you close to him and swirled his fingers along the skin of your back until his hand got too tired and he fell asleep.

For the past two months, you fell asleep and woke up to the sounds of horns honking and sirens blasting outside your window. But that weekend, you fell asleep to the sounds of Jake’s heartbeat in his chest and woke up to the sounds of his soft snoring in your ear. For just a second, it took you back to Michigan, back home.

You laid awake as Jake slept next to you. You stared at the ceiling of your dorm room and then looked over at him.

You were in the middle of New York City. You were a completely insignificant piece of the universe. But you were in Jake’s arms- the safest place on earth. You weren't in Michigan. But you were with him. And with him, you were home.

But that didn’t happen, did it? No.

“Hello?” your friend called out from the other side of the table you were sitting at in the library. She continued, “I said it’s November 1st. You asked what day it was and I said November 1st. Are you okay? You blanked out for a minute,”

“Yeah, I’m uh, I’m fine,” you stuttered.

You looked down at your school work on the table in front of you and let out a breath. You shook your head and rubbed your face for a second.

“Please tell me you’re still not thinking about your ex. What’s his name? J-”

“Jake,” you interrupted.

She nodded and took a sip of her coffee.

“Today would have been our one year anniversary. That’s all,” you said quietly.

“Sorry,” she whispered. You could tell she felt bad about bringing it up.

“It’s okay. But, I’m, I’m gonna go back to my room. Be alone for a little,”

She gave you a sympathetic smile and nodded, “Text me if you need anything,”

“Thanks, I will,” you said as you got up and packed up your stuff.

You exited the library and walked down the sidewalk back to your dorm building alone. You approached your building to be hit with the reality that he was not in fact standing outside, waiting for you.

When you entered your room, you put your stuff down, threw on sweatpants, and got into your bed. You opened your phone and scrolled to the very first photo in your camera roll. The one photo you couldn’t bring yourself to delete. It was Jake, smiling a full toothed smile to the camera with his cheek smushed up next to yours.

“Happy one year, Baby,” you whispered as you clicked the delete button.

The End

Author’s Note:

I originally published Amongst the Stars on January 19, 2022. It was the first fanfiction I’ve ever written. The original idea for this fic started off as a silly little imagine in a group chat and I never expected it to come to life as a full story. Thank you to that group chat. Thank you to Chelsea for the original edits and thank you to Delani for the title. Thank you to so many of my friends for always listening to my ideas, helping me continue the story, and yelling at me for breaking your hearts.

As this year has gone on, I’ve written more fics and learned so much. I never thought writing would become a hobby for me but this fic really started it all. Amongst the Stars has been and always will be my baby. I wanted to do something special for the one year anniversary of it. In addition to that, looking back, I saw where improvements could have been made and I decided to make those changes to give ATS a full Princess Diaries style makeover. I compiled the original fic (with edits and additions), the deleted scenes (with some additions as well), new cover art, new extras that took a look inside Jake’s world, and the alternate anniversary ending to keep it all organized and close the world of ATS for good. I guess we can call this the “Deluxe Edition” if you will.

This story will always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you to anyone who has read it and has supported me along the way. Thank you to the friends I made because of this fic. And finally, thank you to Jake Kiszka and his emo phase.

The story of ATS may be closed. But I never said anything about Josh and Sam’s first love stories closing. There’s small hints at the plots of their stories hidden within this story. Let me know if you find them!

As always, please let me know what you think in my ask or in the replies. Tell me all the parts you loved and the parts you may not have loved too! I want to hear everything you have to say! I love hearing opinions and feedback!

Playlist:

(A fanfiction sponsored by Taylor Swift)

Train: Drops of Jupiter

Taylor Swift: You All Over Me

Taylor Swift: Sparks Fly

Taylor Swift: Back to December

Taylor Swift: You’re On Your Own, Kid

Taylor Swift: Invisible String

Taylor Swift: The Very First Night

Lizzy McAlpine: Apple Pie

Niall Horan: Still

Adele: All I Ask