Rec:seventeen - Tumblr Posts

summary: They say people turn into their most vulnerable selves in the middle of the night, can you trust yourself at 3 a.m. to keep hiding the crush you've been harboring on your friend?

pairing: Joshua x female reader (ft. best friend Jeonghan and the rest of svt)

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut.

warnings: kissing, tension, fingering, a bit of oral (m), mutual pining, cursing, mentions of alcohol, Joshua being oblivious, soft dom Joshua, body worshipping, dirty talk, unprotected sex. Shua is the sweetest. This was an old fic I wrote for another group, so I decided to take it and edit it enough to use it again.

please leave some feedback!! it motivates me a lot🩷

word count: 12k

You’ve heard a lot of good things about turning twenty-seven, and despite you not being the biggest fan of celebrating your birthdays, you weren’t surprised the moment your group of friends decided to book a trip to celebrate properly.

Consisting of mostly males, you’re used to them taking every opportunity to drink and throw parties. However, since spending time with them is fun and makes you happy, you would never actually complain.

"Do you think it's gonna be like, really cold out there?" You ask as you stare at your open closet, still debating on which pieces of clothing are the ones you should pack.

Jeonghan, who's sprawled on your bed with his back against the headboard as he scrolls through social media, hums, not looking up.

He’s been your best friend since high school. You had heard about him back then due to his prince-like appearance, and him unsurprisingly having every single girl wrapped around his finger. Funny enough, and seemingly accustomed to the attention, he never really batted an eye at any of them. Despite being aware of his almost-unrealistic beauty, you didn’t really gave much thought to anything related to him besides whatever you’d hear the girls fussing about across the corridors. 

But then, on a good day, you found each other rolling your eyes at the same girl’s annoying tone of voice, the two of you realized and even chuckled. It was an instant click and you’ve been inseparable since then. 

A perfect balance between being different but so similar at the same time. You truly didn’t believe in soulmates, but turns out you can find one in the shape of a friend.

You weren’t expecting, however, that befriending the prince of school would instantly make you part of a much bigger group of, admittedly, really good-looking guys and girls when you started college.

That’s what brings you here.

"What do you think, Sherlock?." He quirks a brow as he glances up in your direction. "We're going to the mountains, there's no way it's gonna be hot up there unless it’s like, a volcano."

You sigh and roll your eyes at his antics, grabbing different styles of sweaters, hoodies, jackets, and all that could be of use in such weather. Turning around, you carefully fold your clothes and place them into the opened suitcase at the edge of your bed.

"Please remind me. Why were we going to the mountains instead of the beach, again?" 

Jeonghan's lips curl up in a soft smirk, locking his phone and tossing it to the side before his eyes land on yours.

"Because going to the beach is too basic. We always go to the beach."

"So all of you just decided to go on a trip to the cold ass mountains and rent wooden cabins in the middle of April in the name of… What? Eccentricity?" You narrow your eyes. "Yeah. Sounds like something my group of friends would do."

Jeonghan chuckles.

"Don't be a brat. You didn't have to pay for anything, this is your birthday gift from us, and all you have to do is look pretty and try to get your grumpy ass to have fun." 

You fold your arms over your chest, raising a brow at his words.

"Yeah, sounds like my dream holiday having to babysit drunk adults."

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

"Look, complain all you want once we’re back. Let’s not ruin the mood." He insists. "Besides, since it's your birthday, you can avoid all kinds of responsibilities. But you don't tell them I told you that or i’ll make sure to bring Soonyoung to your bed when he’s drunk and crying."

Panic instantly crosses your features.

“My lips are totally sealed.” You say, gesturing to zip them with your fingers.

You plop yourself down onto the mattress, resting your head on Jeonghan’s lap. His slender fingers immediately fly to thread in your hair, gentle scraps on your scalp relaxing your body.

"So you're gonna take care of them for me?" You ask, looking up at his face, trying your best puppy eyes just to guilt trip him.

He scoffs.

"Me? No way. I did it once and ended up having both Seokmin and Soonyoung sneaking into my bed. Soonyoung kept crying and Seokmin just laughed at him. They were so loud I had to leave the room. Not to mention I had to wash the damn sheets cause one of them vomitted in the middle of the night."

You grimaced, trying not to laugh at the same time.

“Sounds like a ride.” You teased. "What about Seungkwan?"

 He glares down at you.

"He was sleeping peacefully in his bed."

"Why didn't one of them go to his bed?"

He sighs.

"I didn’t let them move. Having these two drunk is one thing, having these two drunk and Seungkwan cursing at the top of his lungs at three in the morning is something entirely different. We’ve had complaints from the neighbors."

"Yeah… I wouldn’t risk it, either."

Jeonghan chuckles.

"The best option is leaving them to either Cheol or Minghao." You nod in agreement, enjoying the feeling of his caresses in your head and closing your eyes. “Preferably Cheol. Hao doesn’t have that much patient after a while.”

Right after, his phone goes off and he checks the incoming message. "Well, here we go again." He comments, taking a deep breath before pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Your eyes open, brows knitting together as you sit up.

"What's up?"

"Soonyoung was betting with Seokmin and got his head stuck somewhere around the park fence." He explains as you process the picture in your brain. "Gotta go. Sorry."

He stands up and you smile sympathetically at him.

"Good luck with that." You smile, patting his arm. He steps forward and flicks on your forehead with his fingers before walking to the door, you groan in response, rubbing the sore area.

"Don't forget the vans will be here at 7 a.m."

You throw your head back and whine.

"How many times do I have to say I’m not a morning person?"

“The same amount of times I have to tell Soonyoung to keep his head out of any kind of holes.” He adds, waving one last time before finally exiting your room.

As soon as he leaves, you let out a big sigh. Truthfully, you’re intrigued by how this trip is going to be, and you kinda know for sure sleeping’s gonna be a challenge.

The sound of your alarm pulls you out of the slumber you worked so hard to get in. Groaning, you stretch out your arm to stop the torture from continuing any further. Your lids don’t seem to cooperate, too tired and heavy to open and making you question if you really need to go on that trip to begin with. You could just call them and say you woke up feeling ill and you can’t leave the house while being sick, right?

As if on cue, you instantly have Jeonghan’s voice resonating in your head, telling you all the possible consequences of you bailing everyone when everything’s ready. All the ways he would blackmail you into getting up, in short.

So after taking a deep breath and stretching your limbs once again, you pull the duvet off of you and stand up, dragging your feet sleepily towards the bathroom to take a shower and get as ready as you can actually be.

Admittedly, you took longer than you should have thanks to all the times you dozed off in the shower, and that’s exactly what’s making you rush as your phone keeps buzzing incessantly against the marbled sink, with incoming calls from your best friend.

You can’t even make yourself look presentable at this point, messily throwing your clothes on and grabbing your luggage to drag downstairs, your hair still dripping wet.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You exclaim as soon as you pick one of his calls, hanging up before you could even get a response from the other side of the line.

Turning the lights off, you open the front door and place the luggage down to close the entrance, trying to catch your breath, cause for fuck’s sake, you’re still sleepy, it’s early in the morning and you already not only had to run downstairs, but also carry such a heavy suitcase on your own…Cause if you’re being honest, you probably packed more than what you needed for a weekend-long trip.

You can hear the van’s door sliding open as you lock the door, the wet droplets falling from your hair dampening your shirt and making you shiver. However, nothing prepares your body for the reaction it gets as soon as you turn around and see him.

Standing there, perfect silky hair dangling over his eyes and curling up at the nape of his neck. Sparkly round orbits narrowed in a try to protect themselves from the inclement rays of sunshine, and pretty lips forming the sweetest tight-lipped smile you could’ve dreamed to have seen this early in the morning. Your heart skips a bit, and all the sleepiness washes away; all of this before you can even stop yourself from returning the gesture.

Joshua Hong. You met him one of those times when Jeonghan had dragged you to a small gathering with his friends, then finding him at the nearest convenience store you had from your job.

As soon as you saw him, you were instantly smitten. His doe eyes, cute nose, and sweet voice made the air get stuck in your throat. And as if being so incredibly pretty-faced wasn’t enough, there’s the plus of such a warm personality.

What at first started off as simple acquaitances with friends in common, slowly blossomed into a friendship. Joshua was often who spent time with you at parties, whenever Jeonghan was busy either playing alcohol games, or arguing over something random with someone else. He was also who you found at the book store in search of some kind of book so you could learn how to bake cupcakes in your sugar craving nights. He is, also, someone you feel totally comfortable with, someone selfless who never judges anyone. Someone with a view of the world in a positive light, a free spirit that only encourages you to be true to yourself and accept others as they are. 

All the times you’ve felt out of place, or simply aren’t in the mood to do anything at all, there he is to sit with you and listen to all your rants with that sweet smile adorning his face, just as if you were telling him the most interesting of stories.

He’s a music enthusiast. Likes to play guitar and morning walks to clear his mind. Such sunchild like him was able to charm a moonchild like you. So different, but so similar at the same time.

Despite that, the two of you ended up having more things in common than you could’ve expected. None of you like confrontation, and often prefer spontaneity. Both enjoy rainy days, and spending time at home in front of a fireplace when winter arrives. He’s a gentleman, never speaks over anyone and rarely raises his voice. He’s patient, and always makes you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk.

All those little things did nothing but irremediably attract you, feel nothing but admiration towards the way he sees life and empathizes with you or others.

He’s sweet, and fun to be around. With a sweet laugh and authenticity, the way he’s so soft-spoken and the way he never hesitates to offer help with chores, he’s domestic, so down to earth, nothing short of a prince. A good friend, a good listener, and in truth, you could’ve considered him one of your closest friends if it wasn’t for a simple reason… As a best friend, you have Jeonghan for. In his case, you have a big, fat crush on. So, although sharing a lot of time together, you just can’t help the way your heart flutters whenever he’s around. With a friend you share teasing, pranks, messiness… With Joshua, you share peace, comfort.

The already too-long list of traits to make you fall for someone has had his name highlighted for a while, and it seems that he always finds a new way to make you fall even deeper. 

Like that day he sang his favorite song in front of you with his guitar in hand. You knew back then you were done for.

This crush you have on him is something you’ve been harboring, keeping to yourself as a precious secret, cause yeah, he’s your friend, but also if the way you look at him when he’s not even doing anything doesn’t give you away, then maybe everyone else is just oblivious.

Joshua makes his way over to you and your heart races. God, he looks so good and you look like you just rolled off your bed and fell into a puddle.

He smiles again and leans down to pick your suitcase, looking into your eyes as soon as he stands up back straight.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, Shua. I’m doing good, what about you?” You greet him back with a sweet smile, but your voice betrays you and comes out in almost a whisper. You gnaw at your lower lip in embarrassment, but Joshua being Joshua, pays no mind.

“I’m great, thank you. Let me help you with this.” You nod and just smile up at him, as the two of you walk towards the awaiting van.

“Thank you.” You respond softly, stopping behind him as he places your luggage somewhere with the rest of the suitcases.

“My pleasure.” He smiles.

You flinch when the van parked behind suddenly opens its door, and the next thing you hear is hollering and your name being called from the inside. The voices of Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Seokmin and Chan, who you find waving at you as soon as you turn your head. With a chuckle, you wave back at them, gesturing with your hand for them to stop the noise before someone gets mad right after.

Joshua meets your gaze when you look back and gestures with his head for you to get in. You smile again, because that’s all you can do when he’s around.

You hop in the vehicle and Jeonghan waves at you from the last row of seats at the back. You smile at him while making your way over, noticing the sleeping boys across the other seats. You sigh and plop next to your best friend.

The door closes right after Joshua hopes back in, and you’re still looking at him until the man next to you grabs your face between his fingers and turns your head to look at him. He frowns.

“Any reason in particular why you’re soaking?”

You roll your eyes and he releases your face.

“Just felt like getting refreshed.”

He snorts, and you shoot him a glare.

“You fell asleep in the shower, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

He giggles, but you decide to ignore him as the car starts moving, fastening your seatbelt as your eyes fly back to the object of your desires.

You don’t know how you’re gonna survive being so close to him.

Three hours into the road trip and you’re sleeping soundly against Jeonghan’s shoulder while he scrolls through his phone. The van comes to a stop, so everyone is able to go to the bathroom or buy more snacks. Some of the boys are gathering outside before Jun approaches Seungcheol and Joshua.

“Hey, do you guys think I could move to your van? My seatbelt isn’t working and I’ve been panicking over every single bump on the road for like three hours, I’m exhausted.”

Seungcheol and Joshua laugh.

“Why would you wait three hours to say anything?” Seungcheol asks, tilting his head in confusion. Jun’s brows furrow together before he says:

“What else was I supposed to do? Stop the van in the middle of nowhere?”

“You could’ve called me and I would’ve asked the driver to pull over to take care of it.” The eldest shrugs, Jun groans.

“Can I go to your van or not?”

Seungcheol looks at Joshua, who shrugs as he sips on his water bottle.

“Sure, I can move to the last row.”

Jun smiles with his thumbs up, before they make their way back to the van while Junhui goes to the  other to take his pillow and bring it with him. Joshua grabs some of his stuff and walks towards the back of the car, seeing you asleep as the corners of his mouth curl up in the most subtle smile at the scene, right when Jeonghan looks up in question.

“Jun is moving to this van.” He says quietly, Jeonghan nods and goes back to his business.

The slender man finally hops into the van with his stuff, taking Joshua’s previous seat and fastening his seatbelt. The door slides closed and Joshua secures himself as well, tucking his AirPods in his ears and playing his music.

Everything is peaceful for the next thirty or so minutes, Joshua is currently with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, head back resting against the headrest as his mind focuses only on the music.

But then, you stir in your sleep and move to lean your head on his shoulder. His body tenses as soon as he feels your sudden proximity, face nuzzling in the crook of his neck and forcing him to gulp. He starts playing with his own fingers, averting his gaze from the window, not really knowing how to react. He waits for you to realize, but soon notices you’re still deeply asleep, so he lets you stay there for the rest of the road.

“Hey, wake up, we arrived,” Jeonghan calls, gently shaking you. “Hey, open your eyes,” He repeats, and you’re finally woken up, sitting straight and rubbing your eyes to help them get used to the light.

You feel disoriented for a moment, the gears in your brain slowly starting to work at their normal speed. You stretch out your now sore limbs as you look at your surroundings, all the boys left their vans except you, Jeonghan trying to wake you up, and Joshua, whom you notice is still seated beside you. You frown, but he smiles at you.

“Wait, weren’t you sitting at the front row? What did I miss? How long did I sleep?”

He chuckles, charmed by your utter confusion.

“Well, yeah, but Jun moved to this van. You would’ve noticed if you hadn’t been sleeping for four hours,” Jeonghan is the one to respond, grabbing your hands and pulling you up.

“Four hours?!” You exclaim, rubbing your eyes. 

You groan as the three make your way to exit the van. Jeonghan is the first one to jump out, followed by Joshua. Your vision is still blurry and you’re still clumsy from the grogginess, which doesn’t make the calculation between the van and the floor an easy task.

Joshua notices, so he extends his hand for you to take. You look at it, then at his face. He offers you yet another gentle smile and your stomach flips even in your current state. Still, you smile back and accept his hand, clasping yours around it as he helps you land on your feet without an issue.

You reunite with the rest of the guys soon after, and they’re quick to erase any trace of tiredness as soon as they start being their loud selves, taking turns to hug you or pat your head.

And well, you don’t complain, because it’s nice to have all of them around.

You take a second to look at your surroundings, but the air is way too filled with haze to be able to distinguish anything at all. The cold breeze chills you to the bone and you start to feel the urge to get into to the warmth of the cabin, and as if your prayers had been heard, you spot Seungcheol walking with a few pairs of keys and two girls in their twenties following behind him.

“Okay. So,  we have four cabins at our disposition. In the first one will stay Minghao, Seokmin, Vernon and Jihoon. Junhui, Chan, Seungkwan and Soonyoung in the second one, Jeonghan, Wonwoo and Mingyu in the third, and lastly, the fourth one is for Joshua, myself, and our girl here.” He explains. “They the hosts, Jihye and Jangmi.”

You feel the ground beneath you quake at the thought of sharing a place with Joshua himself, breath hitching in your throat and mouth going dry, your eyes nervously traveling to the two girls in front of you as if asking for help. They seem very welcoming and kind.

“Hi, I’m Jihye. We live here in a house that’s around the corner, and we’ll gladly be available for anything you may need.” She smiles. “The four cabins are equipped with furniture, fireplaces, kitchens, two bathrooms, and four rooms respectively. Each room has a TV, a heater, a desk, and a closet for you to place all of your items.”

“In the living room you’ll find the fireplace, comfortable couches, and even a sofa bed. In the kitchen, you have a small dining table, a microwave, a refrigerator, and different kinds of utensils for you to use,” The second girl adds. “Here in the common areas, you have some benches, picnic tables, and grillers. We also have wifi and my name is Jangmi, by the way.” She chuckles, and all of you laugh along.”

“Also, the bathrooms have a water heater and a first aid kit inside the cabinets. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to reach out and we’ll be happy to help.” Continues Jihye, with a kind smile.

All of you bow in gratitude for their help, right before Soonyoung speaks.

“Are you aware that we’re throwing a party tomorrow night?” He asks in genuine curiosity, Jihye nods.

“Yeah, we’ve been notified and you don’t have to worry about anything. Since we’re in a mountain, there shouldn’t be a problem when it comes to music, for example.”

“Cool!”

“Okay but, I have a question.” You finally speak, feeling everyone’s eyes landing on you. You clear your throat. “Would it be weird if I asked you to join?”

Certainly, you don’t know these girls, but they seem very sweet and it would be awful of you not to, at least, ask them if they’d like to join when they’re so close.

“Oh that’s alright! You don’t have to.” One of them says, waving her hand dismissively.

“But we’d love it if you joined us,” Seokmin says, walking to you and placing his arm around your neck. “It’ll be fun.”

All of them agree, and the girls seem a bit taken aback, you suppose they’ve never been included in anything similar when it comes to tourists. But then, and after a quick glance to one another, they smile.

“If that’s okay with you, we’d love to.”

You smile at them.

“Then it’s settled up.”

Needless to say, you didn’t take long to stop by Jeonghan’s cabin. After taking a much-needed shower and getting diner, you dressed in your coziest pajamas and exited your place to visit your best friend.

And there you are, sprawled across his bed as he sits on the chair in front of the desk.

“I was hoping we’d stay at the same cabin.” You confess, staring up at the ceiling fan.

“Don’t pretend like you like me that much.” He teases as you prop yourself up with your elbows to glare at him. “You have the Hong Jisoo himself in there, what else could you ask for as a birthday gift?”

You gasp and sit up, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. He laughs out loud.

“Shut the fuck up, would you?” You whisper-shout, crawling to the edge of the bed to get closer. He tries to stop laughing but your distressed expression makes it impossible for him. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you. No one’s supposed to know.”

“Yeah, because no one would ever notice the way you shamelessly keep staring at him.”

“You’re exaggerating.” You groan, smacking his thigh while he continues laughing. “Cut it out, you asshole.”

His laugh slowly dies down, then he catches his breath.

“Anyway… Not the point.” He continues. “He’s going to be in the room across from yours. Would you really want to have me there instead of him?” He asks, arching a brow at you.

You groan, covering your face with your palms before plopping down on your back with a sign falling from your mouth.

“You’re so fucking annoying”

“I wonder how you’ll react when I tell you that you slept on him for over an hour.”

Your eyes fly open, almost making you jump off the bed.

“What did you say?!” You gasp, “What the fuck? I did not, you always like to see me distressed. You’re fucking with me.” You panic, grabbing another pillow to repeatedly hit him with it.

Jeonghan once again laughs at your reaction, covering himself with his arms before snatching the pillow away.

“Stop it with the damned pillow.” He groans. “And no, I’m not lying. Though I do love the way you’re losing your shit.”

“How am I supposed to look at him whe-” You trail off, “Wait, did I drool? Snore? Fart?” Jeonghan laughs again. “Stop laughing for fuck’s sake Yoon Jeonghan I’m going to bite your head off!”

“God you’re so dramatic.” He chuckles. “Nothing big, he’ll understand if you’re a bit gassy.”

“What?!”

He laughs out loud again.

“I’m just kidding. You didn’t do anything.”

“What kind of best friend are you?”

“The one you chose, sweetheart.” He teases, grabbing your chin with his fingers and winking at you. You roll your eyes and smack his hand away.

The door then opens, and Vernon peeks in.

“Hey, wanna watch a movie with us?”

“Who are ‘us’?” You ask in return.

“Ehh… I don’t know? Kwan, Chan, Hao, Jun, Joshua… Me?” He shrugs. “Most of us.”

Giving it a thought, you end up realizing you don't truly feel like making a fool of yourself any further, so you smile and shake your head.

“I think I’ll pass. I have to unpack and I’m feeling tired.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow then.” Vernon smiles, waving before closing the door.

Jeonghan gives you a suspicious look.

“What?”

“You slept the whole road and you’re tired?”

“Well, yeah… Panicking is exhausting.” You respond, gaining a roll of his eyes in return. “I’ll go to my room and think about my life decisions. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”  You add, walking towards the door.

“Sure, just know I’ll tell Joshua you didn’t stay because of him.”

You glare back at your best friend. He laughs.

“Make sure I don’t touch your coffee in the morning, Yoon Jeonghan”

You’re snuggled up in the warmth of the designated bed, sleeping peacefully until the door slams open and a bunch of men enter the room singing very loudly a happy birthday.

A groan erupts from your throat against the pillow, lights being turned on before you can even sit up and rub your eyes to adjust to the sudden illuminance. The cheerful idiots continue singing off key on purpose, clapping as Seungcheol walks to you with a cake in his hands, candles already lit and ready for you to blow off.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, though, running your fingers through your hair in a failed try to look a little less dishevelled. Jeonghan jumps onto the opposite end of your bed, kneeling as he also sings and claps. Soonyoung, on the other hand, climbs onto the edge of the mattress just to sing louder and start throwing some improvised confetti. They continue hollering, clapping, and overall being a mess. Then you make a wish, blowing the candles out right after. Lazy smile on your face , clapping along with them.

“Happy birthday!” They exclaim in unison as the cake is placed on your lap.

“Thank you, guys. If it wasn’t for the gesture, I would’ve murdered all of you for waking me up.” You sarcastically say, accepting the knife Seungcheol hands you and cutting a small piece of cake.

“Aren’t you eating?” Chan asks from behind, you shake your head.

“You guys eat first. I still have to wash up.”

With that, Seokmin takes the cake away from you and exits the room with some of the guys following behind.

“We still have to go grocery shopping for tonight.” Seungcheol says, you nod.

“Yeah, I can go with Jeonghan.”

“I’ll go too. Jihye is going to come with us to be a guide,” Cheol adds. “Do you wanna join, Shua?” He asks the man standing next to him, the same one whose presence you hadn’t noticed until now. A sudden wave of embarrassment flows throughout you, considering the way you look, cheeks warming up when he smiles.

“Sure, no problem.”

“Okay then we’ll meet outside in thirty minutes.” Seungcheol smiles, and you nod again. Stepping closer, he pats your head lovingly. “Happy birthday, once again.”

You mumble a “Thank you.” at him, eyes briefly glancing over at Joshua, who only gives you another one of his gentle and reassuring smiles before walking out of the room.

Jeonghan is quick to engulf you in a hug, a hand stroking the hair at the back of your head.

“You’re an oldie now.” He mutters against your head. “Can you feel your thirties breathing on your neck yet?"

You roll your eyes and push him away, glaring at him. He chuckles.

“Get out, I have to take a shower.”

“Right, sleeping beauty.” He leaves another caress on your head accompanied by a soft smile, “Don’t forget to brush your teeth, that dragon breath will even scare the demons away.”

Covering your mouth with your hands, your cace is soon face filled with distress.

“Jeonghan!”

He laughs loudly, standing up and making his way towards the door.

“Just kidding, see you later.” He shuts the door closed behind him after a very obnoxious wink.

Air fills up your lungs with a deep breath, Jeonghan's comment sobering you up immediately and forcing you to hurry off the bed to get into the bathroom, take a shower and get dressed.

As soon as you’re ready, you grab a scarf from the closet, then your phone to make your way out of the cabin, not before stealing a very much needed piece of cake.

The sunlight greets you when you walk through the door, its usual warmth doing nothing in contrast to the freezing air that collides against the exposed skin of your face. You’re quick to wrap the scarf around your neck, boots dragging across the grassy ground as you pull your phone out to of your pocket to send Jeonghan a message.

A sigh leaves your lips, and you're shoving your phone back into your pocket the moment you find Joshua already standing there, hands in his pockets and fluffy hair shining under the sunlight.

He's craning his neck as soon as he notices your presence, smiling at you.

“Good morning, again.” 

“Nice seeing you again, birthday girl.” He greets you back, stepping closer and patting your head sweetly. His touch is gentle, way more gentle than Jeonghan’s or any others. He’s careful and sweet. Still, you chuckle to not make it weird.

“It's like I'm a like a dog. Everyone’s been patting my head today.”

Joshua chuckles, a small cloud of fog escaping from his lips to remind you of the cold surroundings, even when you seem to have forgotten about it with the heat in your veins.

“I’m sorry, we are really annoying.”

Laughing, you shake your head.

“No, no. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You assure, wishing you could add how you’re especially fond of his gentle touches. “I know that’s your way of showing affection.” You add. Because that’s what you hope in your head, that somehow, he have affection for you.

“Of course.” A light and melodious chuckle resonates after his response, patting your head once again.

Silly little giggles are the only thing that come from you in result.

Then, he looks behind you. His smile grows and he lifts his hand up to wave. When you turn around, you see what he’s staring at.

Seungcheol and Jihye make their way towards the two of you.

“Ready to leave?” 

“Yeah, we are.” You smile, rubbing your hands together in search of warmth.

“Bonding, aren’t we?” Seungcheol teases, making you smile.

“You could say that.”

You look at Joshua after responding, he chuckles, and your stomach flips.

“Alright then! Follow me, the store is nearby.” Jihye finally speaks, soon having the three of you following her lead.

The walk is quick and chill, something you’re grateful for considering how cold it is outside. When you arrive at the market, you grab a cart and start walking.

“Okay, so, what do we need?” You ask Cheol, who gives it a brief thought.

“Some drinks, snacks, plates, cups? Preferably plastic ones. Also, some trash plastic bags to clean in the morning.”

“Okay, the plasticware is here at the right. The snacks and drinks are on the opposite side, where the refrigerators are." Jihye explains, hands gesturing as she points to the directions.

“Good. I’ll go with Jihye and you can take care of the snacks and drinks.” He says to both Joshua and you. “Pick whatever you want, it’s your birthday.”

“I might take the whole store with me, then.” You joke, and he chuckles.

The four of you part ways, with you and Joshua going together. He takes you by surprise by sneaking one of his hands in between your arms. You look up at him, confused.

“I’ll do it.” He smiles. You accept the offer with a smile and move aside to let him take your place. Your heartbeats increase in speed at the simple act of chivalry, while you're also trying to distract yourself by eyeing up the shelves.

How’s it possible that he hasn't noticed the way his mere presence puts your whole world upside down?

Looking at all the different flavors, sizes, and textures of potato chips, Doritos, and sweets that are displayed, you decide to quietly contemplate the ones you're craving the most. Joshua's soft voice in the distance lets you be aware that he’s gonna go and grab some beers while you make up your mind.

Since you're such an indecisive individual, you start grabbing packs randomly. Salty, spicy chips, some peperos, and even some biscuits for a change. It's now your mission to find those celestial Honey Butter Chips you’d die for, and when you finally spot them, you groan because of fucking course they had to be placed at the top of the shelf and very much impossible for you to reach them.

How cliché is that?

Still, you try, because one can’t let one's pride be wounded, plus, you’re way too introverted to ask for help anyway. Standing on tiptoes with one arm holding the rest of the snacks, you stretch out your free limb and try to, at least, make one of the damned bags fall to the floor. You don't make it, though. The tips of your fingers barely graze against the bag.

“Need some help?”

The man's voice makes you freeze on the spot. Brain malfunctioning as soon as you feel his breath on your neck. His huge hand reaches for the chips, all of this in seemingly slow motion. You stay there, paralyzed and with your eyes glued to him.

Stepping back, he holds the bag of chips in front of him, wiggling it. His lips curl up sweetly.

“I got you.” 

It's automatic, the way you start detailing every single feature of that gorgeous face. The smoothness and melanin of his skin, the roundness of his lips, and the intense but glowing irises of his dark eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone this pretty in your life.

He snaps you back into reality once he tilts his head, noticing you’ve been staring for too long. You mentally slap yourself, cheeks red in embarrassment at the possibility of making him uncomfortable. The only solution seems to be clearing your throat and looking away.

“Thanks, Shua.”

“You’re welcome.” He says, hand placing the item inside the cart and starting to move again, “You should’ve asked me, though, I was right there.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you. I could do it myself.” This is your insecurity speaking, or the first cheap excuse you have now decided to throw. Whatever suits best the situation.

Joshua can only laugh at that, moving his hand to place it on top of your head. You turn your gaze in his direction, like a deer in headlights as he smiles at you, leaning against the handle on his elbow.

“I know you can.” He coos, caressing the top of your head and sending sparks throughout your body. “Just let yourself be pampered today.”

A smile creeps up your face, finding it hard to look away but doing it anyway. The two of you start walking around the store, and somehow it’s like you two are partners in crime. Stealing glances and soft smiles, slightly bumping into each other. You feel it then, the way warmth radiates from him and embraces you. It’s not cold whenever he’s around.

Soon, you cross paths with Seungcheol and Jihye again. Make your way to the cashier and be ready to pay for everything to go back to the cabins.

On your way back, you spot an ice rink. There are just a few people skating at this time of the day. Your eyes light up instantly.

“Woah, I didn’t know there was one of these in here.” You mumble, your three companions standing next to you.

“Oh! That’s a popular spot for families and tourists to have fun. We love to bring our friends sometimes.” It's Jihye's voice that follows, explaining as you smile at the sight of some children having fun in their ice skates.

“I can imagine, it looks so fun.”

You're having a moment with your inner child. There will be time later to get to the point of embarrassment. That, of course, if you don't notice the way Joshua looks at you ever so fondly.

“Wanna skate for a bit?”

Unexpected. That's what Joshua's question is. You're looking back at him, tilting your head.

“I would, but there are things to set for tonight.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Seungcheol assures then, smiling at you. “It’s your birthday, we will take care of everything. You can stay here and have fun.”

His words bring an instant grin to your face.

“Really? Should I?”

“Of course! It’s on the house!” 

Oh, sweet Jihye.

“Oh no no, I can pay for it, you don’t have to!”

She shakes her head dismissively.

“That’s alright! The owners are family friends. Take it as a birthday gift.”

How can you not smile at her kindness?

“Thank you.”

“Alright let me grab these,” Cheol speaks, snatching the bags you’ve been holding. “Shua, take care of her and all of that.”

“Of course.”

Joshua looks at you then, a sweet and comforting smile being sent in your direction.

“I’ll see you guys in a while!” Then you say, as you wave at them goodbye.

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

Joshua nods his head for you to follow him, and of course, you do.

You certainly didn’t think this through. All things considered.

It shows the moment you put the skates on. Wobbly legs make their way into the rink. It’s not as easy as you imagined.

“I think this wasn’t a good idea.”

Now you're holding onto the walls for dear life, speaking to yourself, and reconsidering your choices in life. Then, you spot Joshua a few meters away. Skating on the ice as if it were nothing, his hands in his pockets, and the wind blowing his hair.

He then turns around in search of you, taking a few seconds to actually find you. As soon as he does, he laughs at the scene of you in the very corner.

He moves closer to you, and you’re so, so embarrassed you want the damn ice to melt and let you drown in it.

“You okay there?”

You want to let out the loudest whine, but you must act your age this time. You can't possibly make more of a fool of yourself in front of the man you like.

“Just peachy.”

You're clawing onto the brick wall, almost counting the seconds until you’re ass planted on the floor.

Joshua's big hand grabs one of your wrists, and you look at him with panic.

“Come on, let’s help you out.”

“Wait wait, I’ll fall, Joshua!” 

There it is. The whine you desperately wanted to hold made it to the surface. It only makes him laugh even more.

“You’re okay, I won’t let you fall.” A bold statement for someone who clearly doesn't know the great amount of clumsiness encased in such a little body. He continues pulling you away from the wall and holding onto your hands. “Just relax, yeah?”

He starts skating backward slowly. You don't know how he manages to be so relaxed as you cut the circulation from his fingers. But it'll have to do.

“This was such a bad idea, I’m so embarrassed.”

He starts loosening the grip on your hands. Realization hits you instantly, eyes flying open as he distances himself from you.

"Don't you fucking dare, Hong Jisoo! Come back here!"

Chuckle after chuckle. Seems like you're his main source of comedy today.

“You can do it.”

“Joshua Hong, you better come and hold my fucking hands.”

It's a threat, but he doesn't see it as such, even with your gritted teeth. He only looks down at you, clearly amused.

“Come on, you’ll be fine. It's not that bad, is it?"

“Why are you doing this to me? My mistake was thinking you'd be better than Yoon Jeonghan but I was clearly wrong. I swear to god you’ll pay the hospital bills when my bones break, and I hope you feel guilty for the rest of your life, cause how can you do this shit to me, Jisoo. I absolutely despise the sh-”

“Stop ranting and look at yourself.” 

And you do. With a chuckle, you slowly and clumsily move your legs.

“Oh, would you look at that? I’m actually doing it.” You laugh, looking up at him. The fondness in his eyes sends butterflies to your stomach.

He comes closer then, and grabs your hands once again.

“Let’s move a little faster.” 

"Let's fucking not!"

He doesn’t even let you oppose before he’s moving quicker. You want to kill him for a moment, but then you're actually having fun, laughing together, very romantic.

Until you trip.

Thankfully, he’s quick to pull you onto him and wrap an arm around your waist to stop your fall.

Bodies pressing together, your hands placed against his chest, looking into his eyes.

“You okay?” He whispers, so close to your face you can actually see his condensed breath. 

You only nod, and for some reason, the two of you stay like this for a few seconds. Looking at each other, his eyes traveling between your eyes and down to your lips. 

You could swear he’s leaning in, maybe wishful thinking or whatever, but you can almost taste his lips.

But then he clears his throat and helps you stand straight.

“That was close.” He says with a small, nervous laugh. “Sorry if it was too much.”

Yeah, you're being delusional.

“No, it’s okay. It was fun.”

“Uh, well... It’s getting dark.” He continues, looking up at the sky, then looking back at you. “Should we head back?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He makes sure to help you get safely to the exit. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to go back to the cabins, that are sadly way too close to the rink… One hour alone with him wasn’t enough.

When you arrive, it saddens you to think that the special moment you shared with him is now over. Still, you wonder if what happened between you two back in the rink was really your imagination.

Your friends run to you as soon as they notice your arrival. They promise everything’s ready and all you need to do is get dressed and enjoy the party.

With a smile, you go back to your room and start getting ready.

Later at night, everyone is already gathered outside. The boys whistle at you teasingly when you get out of your cabin, gaining a roll of your eyes in response.

“Stop it, you perverts.” 

“Lookin’ like a snack”

That's Soonyoung, now placing an arm around your neck with a proud grin. You quirk a brow, looking up at his face.

“What does that even mean?”

“He means you look hot,” Chan says, butting in.

“Ew,” Joking, you push Soonyoung away. He looks at you confused, so you laugh. “Just kidding.”

“You are a mean woman.” He exclaims in his usual dramatism.

Seokmin then comes and puts his arm around Soonyoung.

“I’ll take him. He’s a bit drunk.” With a wink, he starts pulling Soonyoung away, as he mutters “I’m not drunk!”

Chuckling, your eyes search for Joshua, who’s distracted and enrolled in a conversation with Minghao and Wonwoo. Your smile slightly falters, because somehow, you wish he had complimented you, too.

Chan then walks to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. You look at him in confusion, and he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“So, how does it feel to be a noona?”

You snort.

“I’ve always been a noona to you.”

“You’re right. Didn’t know what to say, sorry.”

With another roll of your eyes, you push him away. The two of you laugh until you spot Jeonghan a moment later, and join him at one of the picnic tables.

Fresh steak is being grilled by Mingyu, music is being played by Vernon, and the rest are either drinking or sitting and having a chat. The two girls arrive not long after, shy at first but soon engaging easily in the conversation. You learn that they study online, Jihye is majoring in arts while Jangmi went into fashion design. Their parents have been renting cabins for years, and they plan to continue doing so when they are gone.

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, you stand up from the picnic table to go for another beer, teeth clacking due to the freezing air. You get inside and grab an unopened can, switching it open and taking a swig. A grimace appears on your face at the cheap taste before turning around and going back outside.

You had planned to go back to the table, but your plans change when someone tugs at your wrist and stops you. You turn around and almost collide with Minghao’s figure. He grins.

“You look bored. Wanna dance?”

You smile.

“Sure.”

And that’s how it starts to get really fun, with the two of you dancing before at least another five of the boys join to dance along. It goes that way for a good part of the night, and admittedly, you don’t think you’ve had so much fun before.

These men’s antics are way too hilarious, as they keep clowning themselves without a care in the world despite the cold. That's when you decide it's time to go and grab Jihye and Jangmi by the hands, pulling them with you to join and dance, and they do, having fun when they feel comfortable enough.

You even see Joshua dancing along.

All of you dance until your limbs are exhausted, soon forcing you to excuse yourself. You grab another can of beer, this time deciding to take some fresh air on your own. Walking around until you find a nice spot on a little hill a few steps away, a bit quieter. 

You sit on the grass, knees pushed up and arms hugging them to keep yourself warm. You have a nice view of the city illuminated with different colored lights, something unexpected since all you’ve seen so far is haze.

Taking another swig of your drink, you let the cold wind touch your face. Everything is peaceful and quiet at the moment. Except for your mind.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you see the time being three in the morning. No wonder you suddenly feel so raw and vulnerable. 

Yearning that someone’s company so much is making your chest feel tight, and perhaps, your feelings aren’t just a simple crush at all.

A check on your social media shows the boys’ posts. There he is, with that beautiful smile of his that could light the whole town. Your heart flutters as you continue looking at his picture for who knows how long. A smile forms on your face, fingers grazing the shape of his face.

Then you hear someone’s footsteps approaching against the grass, eyes meeting with Jihoon’s right after. A subtle smile on his face when he sits right next to you.

“Hey, why aren’t you at your own party?”

You shrug.

“I just wanted to be alone for a while and think.”

Jihoon hums with a smile, looking ahead.

“Sounds dangerous.”

A small giggle leaves your lips. It's silent, only the breeze can be heard as you collect your thoughts.

“Jihoon,”

“Yeah?”

You crane your neck to look at him.

“Why do I always feel like I want to let my feelings out at this hour?

He thinks about it, leaning back against his palms.

“Well, you know what they say. Everyone turns into their most vulnerable self in the middle of the night. It’s often the time when I get the inspiration to compose.”

“I’m starting to understand what it truly means.” You confess with a nod. “It’s like I’m being overwhelmed with emotions, and I just wish I could lift them off my shoulders.”

Jihoon sits up straight and places his hand on yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze that you appreciate.

“If you feel the urge to let them out, maybe they don’t need to stay hidden.”

“But... It could have consequences.”

He retracts his hand and sighs.

“Yeah, but every decision has a result. Anything you do or say might lead to something, you can choose to find out what it is, or keep it bottled up and let it slowly consume you.”

You process his words carefully, smiling afterward.

“No wonder you’re so great at writing songs.”

“Had to find a productive way to let everything out.” He explains with a chuckle. “Wanna head back?”

“Yeah, I’ll reach you in a minute.”

Jihoon nods and stands up, walking back to where his friends are.

Grabbing your phone once again, fingers scroll through your contacts until you find his number and open the conversation.

There. Consider the possibilities. It’s the middle of the night. you know you can’t trust yourself at this hour, but somehow you’d rather get it off your chest now that you're feeling brave.

That’s it. You’ve opened the gates to let your feelings escape. You hope it’s really worth it.

You're still starting to feel the relief of lifting that weight off your shoulders, but also the uncertainty still managing to shoot a sprinkle of insecurity straight to your brain.

Locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket, you feel nauseous and your heart is heavy. You fucked up. You know you did.

Sighing, you rest your forehead against your forearms. Your eyes flutter shut as you desperately try to stabilize your breathing. The knot in your stomach becomes painful, your throat tight enough to make your airways feel constricted.

Then, it's time to stand up. You’re not really sure how you’re gonna face Joshua, or the rest of the boys, for that matter. Not now that you decided it was a good idea to confess your feelings through a text message.

However, you stop in your tracks the moment you see Joshua. The air is completely knocked out of your lungs as he silently approaches.

Locks of hair subtly blow in the wind, the moonlight makes his skin glow oh, so gracefully, and his pupils are surely putting the stars at shame. His lips are slightly agape, subtle clouds of fog escaping from his mouth, erratic breathing hinting how he must’ve hurried to come and find you.

It's an urge for you to say anything, but your brain can’t even formulate coherent sentences.

“Josh-”

An arm of his wraps around your waist, pulling you against him before his lips are enclosing yours in a kiss, interrupting whatever excuse you were planning on using.

Eyes flutter close instantly, arms clasping around his wrists. The kiss is soft, sweet, and too short for your liking. He barely pulls back, lips still inches away from yours, noses brushing when he says: 

“I do like you.”

Joshua's thumb runs over your lower lip, staring down at you with half-lidded dark eyes. His smile appears right after, bright and contagious, a breathy chuckle falling from his mouth. You smile back, hands moving up to find purchase at the sides of his neck.

“Do you?”

Dumb question, but you can’t help but ask it.

“Yeah.” He promptly responds, pressing another chaste kiss against your mouth. “So much.”

“Lucky me.”

You're now the one who chuckles, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the way it feels to have his lips on yours. He's unsurprisingly a very skilled kisser. Knowing perfectly well how to move his lips slowly and delicious, the liplock accompanied by soft nips, sucks, and rhythmic movements against the other’s mouth. He tilts his head and pulls you further against his mouth, hands cupping your jaw. Your head spins in pure ecstasy.

The kiss breaks slowly, still in a daze when you detail the way his lips have turned red and swollen. His thumbs gently rub the skin of your cheeks, and it feels like you're about to vomit a whole zoo. He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body and embracing you tightly.

You bury your face in his chest and breathe him in. You embrace all of him and his sweet scent, letting your eyes close and humming contently as your fingers curl on the fabric of his coat.

“How are we going to explain this?”

“We don’t need to.” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Seems everyone knew what was going on, except me.”

That certainly makes you laugh, cause you've been way too obvious all along.

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Tell me about it.” He agrees, placing a kiss on top of your head. “Wanna go back?”

He extends his hand palm up. You look down at it before intertwining your fingers, a smile on your face.

As soon as you arrive, the teasing begins.

“Took you both long enough!”

Seems like you ended up being the center of attention for a very different reason. Your cheeks burn as Joshua releases your hand and grabs your wrist instead, moving you to stand next to him, then placing his arm around your waist.

He's the one who decides to retort first.

“Yeah yeah, drop it already.”

“I was almost going to confess in her name at this point.” Jeonghan jokes, approaching the two of you.

“Still bitter you didn’t tell me shit,” Joshua confesses, your best friend shakes his hand and gives him a quick, brotherly hug.

“I could’ve, but she would’ve whined about it for years.”

A glare shoots in his direction straight from your eyes, smacking his chest, which makes him laugh.

“Who would’ve thought you can actually keep a secret?”

“Don’t test your luck, I still know plenty of things your new boyfriend would love to know.”

Joshua looks at you with a quirked brow, but you’re quick to grab his hand and start pulling him away.

“Anyway who wants to dance?!”

Joshua looks between you and Jeonghan, who's being left behind. He's clearly intrigued by the situation but follows you nonetheless.

You’ll remember to invite Jihoon to grab some food later.

It's way past five when you're in your bed staring at the ceiling. Everyone must be either passed out somewhere or getting ready for bed since the sun will be rising soon.

There’s only one thing on your mind now that you’re back in your room.

You grab your phone and unlock it, looking for the conversation you started a few hours ago. Fingers typing almost on autopilot, hoping he’s still awake.

Excitement fills your body when you place your phone back on the nightstand. It doesn’t take long until you hear a soft knock on the door.

“Come in!”

You soon see his face, his hand running through his slightly messy hair. Wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top that lets you admire his bare, toned biceps. Teeth sinking in your lip in anticipation, no one could ever look this good.

Scooting, you make room for him on your bed, lifting the covers so he can slide in. As soon as he does, you’re both face to face. It's so charming that even in his tired state, he smiles and places a soft kiss on your lips.

Burying your face in his neck and playing with the hairs at the back of his head, he hums, letting you know he appreciates the gesture before his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you even more into his.

“Hmm, you smell nice.” You admit, a breathy chuckle escaping from his mouth and making his chest vibrate against you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The sudden pet name sends a wave of sparks through your body, not to mention the arousal of knowing he’s using a pet name just for you.

“I could get used to you calling me nice things.”

Joshua pulls back to look into your eyes once again, a light smirk now forming on his lips.

“Yeah?”

Big hand lifts and runs its fingers through your hair.

“Yeah.”

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, but his eyes never leave yours. Smile slowly vanishing the more the tension in the room arises. His soft touches start to become bold, with a hand running from your neck to your shoulder, and from your shoulder down your arm.

“Your skin is so warm, so soft.” It's a mumble, barely audible, as his hand moves from your arm to your waist, gently pushing up the hem of your shirt and letting his hand travel through your curves.

His touch makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“I like it when you touch me.”

“Hmm. You shouldn’t say that to me.” He whispers, mouth ghosting over yours as his hand travels upwards, finding your ribs. “I don’t think I can hold back.”

“Then don’t.” 

His gaze darkens at your words, glued to yours in the barely illuminated room. Your body is now craving him, yearning for his touch after dreaming about him for so long.

Joshua then makes the next move, propping on his elbow, his upper half hovering over you. 

You look up at him when his hand comes in contact with your cheek. His beauty is immaculate under the moonlight peeking through the windows. There's so much want being shared. The sight of him on you is so alluring it’ll be engraved in your memory for the rest of your life.

The necklace hanging from his neck looks so tempting, makes you want to curl your fingers around it just to pull him in and succumb to your true desires.

“Then remember that you asked for it.” He speaks again. “I’m going to worship every inch of your skin and kiss at every corner the way I want, give you whatever you wish while making you mine.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He drags his fingers down your skin, eyes shifting from yours to down your lips.

“Fuck.”

Before anything else can be said, he leans in and kisses you. His kiss once again takes over all your senses. So slow, open-mouthed, and passionate. Your hands fly to the back of his head to tangle in his soft locks, kissing him in a way he could feel how much you’ve wanted to have him.

His thigh spreads your legs to position himself between them more comfortably. His big hands roam down your neck, shoulders, and waist, making sure that his fingers dance along every single inch of your skin, setting it aflame.

You nip at his lip, tugging gently and making him groan. The tip of your tongue teases the area before he lets his own dive into your mouth to press, roll, and play.

Both can feel the arousal pooling in your underwear, the heat and the need are unbearable. You're clenching around nothing, an effect only his kiss has caused. Pathetic, but real.

Joshua's mouth starts traveling from the corner of your lips, to your jaw and down your neck. You bite your lip again, trying not to whimper and melt into a piddle. Tilting your head back to give him more access, the heaviness in your breath is enough to agitate him, and soon you feel the hard tent in his sweatpants pressing against your thigh.

A lift of your hips and a slight grind are enough to make him curse under his breath as his fingers claw onto your waist.

“Fuck.” He grunts before his tongue gently laps at the exposed column of your neck. You scrap at his scalp, tugging on his hair before grinding on him again. His kiss travels upwards, finding your ear and nibbling on the lobe, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He whispers, voice hoarse and lust-filled.

“Please, Joshua.” You can't help but beg, beg for him to give you more, pressing yourself against him as much as possible. “I need you.”

“I got you, baby. Let’s take your clothes off, yeah?”

He pulls back and slides his fingers under your shirt, lifting it and pulling it over your head before throwing it somewhere in the room.

His eyes get even more hooded at the sight of your bare breasts, pupils dilating as his hands start running down your bare torso, slowly, smoothly, the touch burning your skin. His palms enclose your chest, kneading gently, his thumbs run over the perked nipples, rolling them between his digits. You moan at the action, hands clasping around his biceps and nails clawing on his skin. He bites his lip as he watches every reaction of yours, finally lowering his head to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.

A whimper falls from your mouth the moment his tongue starts playing with your sensitive buds. He looks up, not wanting to miss any expression of yours as he continues to suck, lick, and suck again.

“Fuck, Shua, that feels so good.”

He hums, moving to the neglected breast and repeating the process. His free hand runs down your stomach, sliding under the waistband of your panties. Long middle finger soon sliding between your folds, pressing on the wet button and making you choke on a moan.

“So wet. I’ve barely touched you, baby.” He teases, pulling away from your nipple and smirking at you. His fingers start rubbing up and down, face hovering over yours, staring intently. He pushes two of his fingers into your hole, and your back arches against his chest.

His lips keep that smirk on, nodding at you while you moan. “That’s it. Feels good, yeah?”

You bite your lip and manage to nod.

Joshua starts pumping his fingers faster, moving his body from over you to get rid of your pants and your panties by dragging them down your legs. All of this without stopping with his ministrations.

There you are, in all your naked glory in front of him, so exposed and vulnerable, but not feeling scared because the way he looks at you is enough to make you feel so wanted.

“So pretty, all for me.” He leans down and grazes his lips against the skin of your tummy. Curling up his fingers, he grazes the perfect spot that makes you moan even louder. Eyes fixated on you with a quirked brow, followed by a breathy laugh. “If you keep being so loud, everyone’s gonna know how good you are at taking fingers, huh?”

You're really trying here, but you can't keep quiet. His teasing words only turn you on even more and make you clench around his digits, feeling your climax approaching at a rapid speed.

“Sorry.” You croak. “It feels so good.”

“I can tell, you’re clenching tightly. How are you going to take my cock?”

He seems to love teasing, as he places kisses on your thighs. Who would've thought? He's apparently not the same gentleman in bed, and you love it.

“I can do it. I will do it.”

Joshua stares at you with both pride and amusement. It’s almost enough to hide the fact that his dick is hard as a rock, but since he’s not trying to hide it, you promptly watch as his free hand moves to palm himself over his clothes.

“Then come for me, so we can make it happen.”

You should probably be more obedient, but you're so desperate you move your hands to the hem of his shirt to lift it up slightly and he quickly takes it off with a chuckle. The sight is hypnotizing, muscles divinely built for your hands to touch, smooth skin screaming to be kissed, and your mouth is watering.

Extending your hand, you run it over his torso, fingers dancing across his abs and chest as he sits on his ankles. The tight knot on your stomach soon releases with the sight of the naked man in front of you, and you reach your climax with chants of his name. Your back arching, legs shaking.

“That’s it. Such a good girl.” He praises, helping you ride out of your peak.

While you try to catch your breath, he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his lips to lick them clean. You almost whimper again, 'cause how can someone like him, so sweet and gentlemanly, be so dirty and hot.

Your hands fly to the back of his neck and pull him into a heated kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hands run down the soft skin of his back.

He breaks the kiss to look at you, panting, clearly way too aroused to keep holding back, so he pulls back and gets rid of his pants and boxers. There you see him, standing free and hard, pink at the head and leaking with arousal. You can’t hold back the wish to touch him, hand flying to wrap around his shaft to pump his length.

He lets out the prettiest moan you could’ve heard, which impulses you to apply more pressure on his shaft. Sitting up, your lips wrap around the head of his cock, gentle sucks and twirls of your tongue sending him into a frenzy. You tug up and down, pointed tongue running over the leaking slit, the salty precum filling your tastebuds.

Joshua looks down at you, ragged breath as he places his gentle hand on the back of your head. You lick a stripe of his length from the base to the head, looking up at him and pressing your thighs together in search of some relief when you witness the blissful expression on his face. Pushing his length further down your throat, you almost choke in hopes to hear more of his luscious sounds.

He's quick to pull you away from him, and you frown. He kisses your lips, licking on your tongue and making you moan against his mouth before he pulls back.

"Love that you're so eager to suck my cock, baby, but if I let you continue, I won't last."

What a filthy fucking mouth he has.

“Fuck, Shua. Please baby, please take me already.”

Joshua bites his already swollen lip, moving your hand away from his length to wrap it in his own and place it at your entrance.

“You ready?”

He starts slowly pushing himself into you as soon as you nod. The tightness of your clamping walls makes him choke a moan of his own, as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You take advantage of the moment to start placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulder. 

Soon he starts to move his hips, making your head spin with the rhythm of his thrusts. You cling onto his body, wrapping your legs around his waist to press him further into you as soon as he bottoms out. Joshua supports his body with one of his arms beside your head, the free one holding onto your waist as his pace starts quickening.

“Shit, so tight.” He moans, snapping his hips against yours and hitting all the right spots. Truthfully, you could cream again by just hearing the sounds he's making. “You were made for me, to take my cock.” He adds, jaw tightening as he moves his hand to interlace his fingers with yours.

“So good, so big.” You cry out. “I’ve belonged to you since the day I saw you.”

He's leaning down after a breathy curse, kissing you again, a bit sloppier, tongues playing as his hips continue speeding up.

You hope in the back of your mind that no one can hear the sounds of skin slapping against skin, however, you’re far too gone to really care.

“If I had known sooner…” He grunts, hand sliding down to find your clit to rub on it with the pads of his fingers. You scratch his back as he continues. “All this time pining over you but thinking you were not really interested.” He confesses, a particular thrust of his hips making you cry out again. “I deserve all the teasing.”

“Fuck, Joshua, I’m so close.” It's a whole trail of whimpers and moans that you let out between each sentence, pressing his sweaty body against yours. “Been harboring these feelings for so long, Joshua, fuck.”

You’re soon grabbed by the waist and flipped over to straddle him. His head against the headrest and hands on your hips. 

“Ride me like that. Shit.” He orders in between moans, biting his lip as his hand roams up and down your back. “I wanna be in so deep.”

You roll your hips, bouncing every now and then as your hands find leverage on his strong and broad shoulders.

"Oh my fucking God.”

“Cum baby, and milk me dry. Show me how much you mean it.” He demands through gritted teeth, rubbing again on your clit. “How much you’ve wanted me all this time.”

And as if it was a magic spell, you come undone around him, legs shaking and back arching. You bite your lip so hard it draws blood, but you don’t care. 

Your walls clench around him hard enough for him to cum right after you with a throaty groan. His hot seed spills inside you in thick spurts, painting your walls white. A few more sloppy thrusts and you’re soon collapsing onto his clammy chest. His heart is racing, but so is yours.

Joshua's strong arms wrap around you, soft caresses on your back as you remain connected for a while.

When the two of you manage to regain your composure, he pulls out of you and helps you lay on your back, turning around to look into your eyes. He looks at you silently, full of adoration at your flushed face.

It's hard for you to keep your eyes open, but you try your best to look at his post-climax glory.

“That was intense.”

Joshua smiles, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Just wait until we wake up in a couple of hours.”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, and you start laughing.

He leans down and kisses you one more time, much more slowly, then pulls back, standing up from the bed.

You watch as he puts his sweats and boxers back on. Wrapping the sheets around your body as he goes to the bathroom and comes back with a towel. He doesn’t need to turn the lights on, considering that the sun is already up. He smiles at you and gently cleans you up, sharing a few kisses before he helps you dress again. A protest is what he receives, too tired to move, however, he just chuckles.

“Come on, love. It’s freezing cold. Let me dress you up so we can sleep, yeah?”

With a groan, you end up sitting up and letting him help you. Soon after that, you’re both falling asleep together on your bed.

“Okay, this was definitely a memorable experience.” Seokmin says, as everyone gets the luggage into the vans.

“It was fun!” Soonyoung agrees, placing his arm around Vernon’s shoulder.

“Well, except for Joshua hyung giving it to our favorite girl til early in the fucking morning.”

You smack Seungkwan across the head and he rubs the sore spot.

“Shut the fuck up. You heard nothing.”

“At least someone was getting laid,” Mingyu adds.

“Are we ready to leave? I really don’t feel like discussing someone’s sexual escapades this early in the morning.”

Of course, it'll be the dad of the group cutting the shit out.

You bid the two girls goodbye, promising to keep in contact and visit soon. thanking them for everything they did.

When everyone’s already inside their vans, you wave at the girls and go back to your seat. Fastening your seatbelt, you look at Jeonghan, who looks back at you with a smirk.

When he least expects it, you place a smooch on his cheek.

Taken aback, his hand moves to touch the place where the kiss landed.

“What was that for?”

You just shrug. “You’re my best friend and I love you.”

Jeonghan can only roll his eyes.

“I was going to tease you for getting some, but that was actually sweet.”

You respond with a chuckle, grabbing his hand and interlacing your fingers together.

“Of course you would, bestie.”

You soon meet eyes with Joshua, who smiles before grabbing your other hand and interlacing your fingers, bringing it to his lips and kissing on the back of it. 

Then, Jeonghan suddenly grabs your face and places a loud smooch on your cheek, making you gasp and laugh out loud, disbelief written on your face.

“Just to remind Joshua he has to share. Don’t expect this gesture to happen very often, though.”

You laugh and rest your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder, still holding both of your favorite boys’ hands.

---

The thing about love;

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

genre: fluff, angst, humour, one sided pining

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

25.3k words (I will better myself)

masterlist

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

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

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

“That was a bad fucking idea”

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

Keep reading

---

Seventeen Recs

A- Angst, S-Smut F-Fluff

Choi Seungcheol💎

Yoon Jeonghan💎

Joshua Hong💎

Late Night Confessions by Multiland SF

Wen Junhui💎

Kwon Soonyoung💎

The thing about Love by Gyuswhore AF

Bluff and Nonsense by Thepixelelf AF

Jeon Wonwoo💎

Lee Jihoon💎

Lee Seokmin💎

Kim Mingyu💎

Xu Minghao💎

Boo Seungkwan💎

Hansol Vernon Chwe💎

Lee Chan💎

---

Bluff and Nonsense - she/her ver.

genres: romance, angst, some fluff, university au, not a fake dating au pairing: female reader x hoshi words: 17.0k (01:08) warnings: cursing, alcohol notes (orig, 2020): "so the title is fluffy and this was a title fic, but then it ran away on me. I really like this one so... yeah. Enjoy!” update, 2023: this is the she/her version of Bluff and Nonsense. other than the pronouns, nothing else has been changed. you can find the original they/them version here, and the he/him version here

“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”

or

Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense.

Kwon Soonyoung is a man of many talents. He’s the guy who could fit a whole orange in his mouth in fourth grade, the guy who always knew how to make the social studies teacher talk about his divorce instead of the world wars, and the guy who brought a live pigeon to school with no one questioning him whatsoever. He’s also the head choreographer of the university’s dance crew — you barely knew there was a dance crew until he showed up with his hand-drawn posters — as well as a totally well-rounded fine arts major. C’mon, who takes a chemistry course in the fine arts? Kwon Soonyoung, apparently.

Of his many talents though, lying is not one of them.

Which is why, when asked if he likes anyone, Soonyoung says your name instead of simply saying “no” (a much better option in hindsight). He actually likes a girl on his dance crew. Cute, funny, has those eyes you can just get lost in — lord knows Soonyoung has. But, at this relatively quiet party, with half the guests crowded on Seungcheol’s couch and the other half on the disgusting carpeted floor of his apartment, Soonyoung can’t admit his real crush because she’s sitting just a few feet away.

It wouldn’t be such a bad lie if you weren’t also sitting a few feet away.

You’re on your phone when he says your name in his heartbeat-induced panic, but you look up at the sound of it, as does Seungkwan, who was reading something on your phone from the beanbag chair you’re both sitting in.

A chorus of low, teasing ‘ooh’s rises throughout the room, almost like it’s eighth grade again and Soonyoung just got called down to the office. Except now, he might actually be in trouble. He gets a few claps on the back from his friends close enough to reach, commending him on his bravado even though he doesn’t deserve it. Really, the whole situation only dawns on Soonyoung after 6.8 seconds, which is a bit too long considering he made the situation in the first place. Blood rushes to his cheeks, not because of the alcohol in his red cup he’s yet to drink, but because you’re looking right at him, and he has no idea what to do.

Soonyoung doesn’t know you very well. In fact, he’d almost say he doesn’t know you at all.

You’re Seungkwan’s friend from one of his classes — computing science, if Soonyoung remembers correctly, but he’s not totally confident. The only reason you came tonight is because of Seungkwan. You don’t know anyone else.

With a tilt of your head, your face scrunches with question, and you look to Seungkwan for help. You know Soonyoung said your name, but you missed hearing the context. It looks like Seungkwan missed it too, seeing as the conversation you two have only makes your brow furrow more as the room chatter picks back up. Everyone else is already over Soonyoung’s sudden confession when Jeonghan starts talking about something else.

Except Soonyoung’s friends, of course. That would be too easy.

Mingyu turns to him with a stupid smile, his cheeks red from both the free opportunity to tease his upperclassman and the light beer he’s been sipping and pretending to get buzzed on all night. He nudges Soonyoung with his shoulder where they sit on the floor, leaning in to speak under the conversations surrounding them. “You didn’t tell me you like her,” he says, the jesting tone in his voice clearer than water.

“Yeah...” Soonyoung doesn’t know why he doesn’t just retract his confession, it’s not like Mingyu is close to you or anything, he’d understand. But then again, he’s bad at lying, and the girl he likes is still sitting on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s sort of a recent thing.”

Mingyu’s smile only widens at Soonyoung’s response, his eyes turning to slits with the rise of his cheeks. “Soonie’s in looove~!”

And Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before, not exactly like this, anyways. So he just looks down, scratches the back of his neck again, looks at one of his dance crew friends when she calls his name.

He doesn’t dare glance your way for the rest of the night.

Turns out you do know someone else other than Seungkwan, because once most of the guests have cleared out, leaving only half the boys to clean up, Seokmin approaches Soonyoung as he scrubs the sink of whatever that weird green stuff is.

He asks how Soonyoung knows you and says off-handedly that he’s never even seen the two of you talk. (Which is right.) He says these things shouldn’t be joked about, that you’re a person with feelings, and Soonyoung should leave you alone if he’s just doing this for comedy’s sake.

Soonyoung thinks he’s never seen Seokmin so serious.

It’s probably fine. You haven’t said anything good or bad, and other than the occasional tease from his friends, no one has taken anything too far. Maybe you’ll forget about it tomorrow. Maybe he’ll forget about it tomorrow, and it will all be okay.

Besides, it’s not like he actually likes you. And his real secret is still safe and sound.

•

Of Soonyoung’s many talents, making people sad is also not one of them.

It’s not that he actively tries to cause misery only to fail, it’s that he can’t stand upsetting anyone. He’s a people-pleaser by nature, that’s just how it is.

So he doesn’t say no when you ask him out for coffee.

And he smiles at you when you try to make conversation, even though it’s awkward and hesitant despite having a mutual friend like Seungkwan. It’s not so bad, he thinks. You’re trying, at least, and when you ask him about his interests, you actually listen, which isn’t common when he tends to over-explain his love for dance and performance. He has a coffee in his hand too, so that’s a plus.

You ask him if what he said at the party was true, and something in your eyes makes him say yes.

•

There are a few more coffee dates after that. It’s nothing official, and Soonyoung is hesitant to call the meetups “dates” because he’s not interested in dating you. But it’s a little late for that.

You seem brighter, though, every time he sees you again; he can’t bring himself to take that away, to cut the cord, to clean this mess he made.

Something about the way you two talk is nice, at least. Soonyoung can’t quite put his finger on it, and he tells himself that’s what’s drawing him back every time, not the guilt he feels sunken in his ribcage whenever you smile his way. It’s not that deep, he repeats to himself whenever you wave to him on campus, making him feel obligated to walk you to class. It’s not that deep.

He’s in the library one day when he spots you at one of the tables, books open and spread out as you scribble down notes, a pair of earbuds dangling from your ears. You haven’t seen him, so he doesn’t try to approach, just ducks back behind the bookshelf he’s been exploring. His hand is on a book he might like when a voice stops him.

“You know you’re an idiot, right?”

Minghao leans against the opposite bookshelf, his arms crossed, locked and loaded for judgement. Soonyoung looks around, but of course he’s talking to him. They’re the only ones in the row.

“Um, how do you want me to answer that?” he asks, unsure of exactly what Minghao’s talking about. Yeah, he knows he’s a bit dense sometimes, but not all the time.

Minghao rolls his eyes. “I know you like Sehee. You haven't stopped laughing like an idiot at her bad jokes." He nods his chin outwards, gesturing over Soonyoung's shoulder and through the bookshelves towards where you're sitting. "What are you doing messing with Seungkwan's friend?"

It’s not too surprising that Minghao knows — he’s an intuitive guy, but Soonyoung is still caught off guard. He asks first, under his breath, “Does anyone else know?”

“If you mean dumb and dumber, then no.” Minghao jerks his head to swing his dark bangs out of his eyes. Everyone keeps telling him to just cut his hair shorter, but he refuses for the aesthetic, or something. “Chan is way too focused on dancing to notice your dumbassery, and Jun is about as observant as a fishcake when it comes to feelings.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders fall in relief, though he didn’t even realize they’d tensed up. 

“But that’s not the problem here. Why are you playing around with her if you’re into Sehee?”

“I’m not—” Soonyoung pauses, thoughts deliberate, “—I’m not playing around, okay? I just... I don’t know. You were all looking at me, and I couldn’t just say Sehee's name, she was right there!”

Minghao cocks an eyebrow at that. “But you could say hers?”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware.”

Soonyoung groans quietly — he’s still in a library after all. He covers his face with both hands, not wanting to look at Minghao nor have Minghao look at him. For a second, it’s blissful, awkward silence, which Soonyoung would take over Minghao’s scolding any day. But of course, no haven lasts forever.

“You’re gonna have to tell her,” Minghao says, and he’s probably right. No, he is right, Soonyoung just doesn’t want him to be.

“I can’t do that! I said I like her— twice!”

“Twice?”

“Twice!”

Minghao only drops his head for a second, scoffing at the whole situation. Soonyoung wishes he could do that too, just laugh it off because it’s someone else’s problem.

“Well, you’re going to have to say something sooner or later.” Meeting his eyes, Soonyoung realizes Minghao might actually be worried. About you, or him, or something else, he’s not sure, but the subtle fold of Minghao’s eyelids tells Soonyoung this is about more than just calling out idiocy. “And I think sooner will hurt less.”

Soonyoung knows he’s right. But he doesn’t like it.

Before he can come up with a rebuttal, though, Minghao’s hands are on Soonyoung’s shoulders, and he’s pushing him out of the row of bookshelves and straight towards your table.

“You can do it, Soonyoung, just rip the band-aid while you still can,” he whispers in Soonyoung’s ear right before one last push at his back.

Soonyoung stumbles a bit, but once he regains his footing, Minghao’s already gone and you’ve already noticed the ruckus. You pull one earbud out with a bright smile. It’s so jovial that Soonyoung almost forgets why he’s here.

“Hi Soonyoung, I didn’t see you come in,” you say, and there’s no way you’re this energized just from studying in a library.

“Uh... hi.”

“You’ve actually got the perfect timing.” Waving to him, you gesture for him to sit next to you, and he does. You pull out some sort of planner, opening it to a few months from now. “I wanted to ask when exactly your showcase is? Seungkwan’s no help at all because he only cares about his concerts and stuff. Honestly, there aren’t that many...”

You’re going to have to say something sooner or later.

Soonyoung picks later.

•

“So when are you gonna ask her out?”

Jihoon stands in front of the stove, watching his hot water simmer, a bag of dry ramen in one hand and long cooking chopsticks in the other. It’s Soonyoung’s turn to make dinner tonight, but since he says he isn’t hungry, Jihoon’s scrounging it out himself.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, sits at their tiny dinner table, his forehead pressed to the cool surface, arms hanging limp at his sides. He mumbles something of a response, but it’s nothing more than a questioning grunt, if anything.

“Oh, you know.” Even when Jihoon says your name, Soonyoung stays still. “Only the girl you’ve been on several “dates” with ever since you confessed to her at Seungcheol’s party. When are you gonna ask her on a real date?”

Tired, Soonyoung groans. “When the time is right, I guess.”

•

You work on campus. It’s some part-time job you don’t care about enough to even complain over, despite the fact that you have to deal with annoying university kids every day. Soonyoung finds this out when he has coffee with Minghao in one of the buildings he doesn’t normally frequent, and only goes to today since Minghao has a class nearby in the next hour.

The coffee isn’t great, and it’s too expensive, but Soonyoung drinks it anyways. He much prefers the coffee from the cafe he goes to with you. Because the coffee is better. Obviously.

He hears your voice first, words indiscernible with distance and overshadowed by a much louder, angrier one, but still. Minghao sees you first, though, and he points past Soonyoung to the student printing center, where you’re standing behind the counter and arguing with some guy. You don’t seem too riled, but Soonyoung can tell you want to be anywhere but there, especially when the angry guy’s voice keeps getting louder and louder.

Soonyoung’s feet bring him over before his brain can register what to do. You haven’t seen him yet, he could just walk away, but he doesn’t. Your voice becomes clearer as he approaches.

“Listen, the printing center is for education, art, or business. I can’t print this for you.”

The guy goes off about personal freedoms or whatever, Soonyoung isn’t really listening.

“No, I get that this is a student printing center, but I really don’t think your big tiddie anime gf poster has anything to do with education, art, or business.”

And that’s when the guy grabs your arm. Which results in Soonyoung grabbing his arm. Which results in the accusatory question, “What are you, her boyfriend or something?”

Now, in a perfect story, this would be the first time Soonyoung meets you. Or maybe you’ve been close friends for a while. And this would be when Soonyoung says that, yes, he is your boyfriend, and he would save the day. Except you’d be all “why would you do that?” which would result in you both having to fake date to keep that guy off your back. In this perfect story, there would be no Sehee to like and no Minghao to judge, just you and Soonyoung fake dating. Eventually, you’d both catch real feelings instead of fake ones, and then boom, happily ever after.

But this isn’t a perfect story.

Soonyoung still says yes, and the guy still backs off. In reality though, because Soonyoung never thinks before he lies, you momentarily duck behind the counter and bring a hand up to your face to cover your ever-brightening smile. In reality, Sehee still exists at the forefront of his mind every dance practice, even though you’re the one he just promptly claimed to be the boyfriend of. In reality, Minghao watches from a little ways away, sipping his coffee and shaking his head in what can only be called disappointment.

Soonyoung’s never been good at lying. One would think he’d stop by now.

•

So, it’s official.

You’ve put a heart next to his contact name. He’s put one next to yours — red, because he doesn’t know your favourite colour. Seungkwan’s done the whole if you break my friend’s heart I break you spiel and Soonyoung finally realizes he’s in too deep.

It's almost too natural, how easily you bring him into your life and how easily he finds himself fitting. It's all so wrong.

Soonyoung feels like an imposter, like there's someone meant to be by your side, but it's not him.

You pluck up the courage one day to hold his hand, and he can't pull away because the lies tying him to you are too strong. The small bluffs he's spun have weaved themselves into a net he's tangled himself in.

His dance crew congratulates him when Jun spills the news. It's all mundane, really — dating in university isn't all that uncommon. Mostly, Soonyoung gets casual "you go, dude" comments or the like, but then Sehee says nothing. She smiles, and it has to be one of the most tragically beautiful things Soonyoung's ever seen. His heart fractures, just a little, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to fix it.

He smiles it off. Tries to, anyways.

Chan complains that Soonyoung's too harsh that day.

•

Jihoon likes you.

Not in a "Mister Steal Yo' Girl" way, but he laughed at one of your jokes the first time you came over to Soonyoung's apartment, and ever since then, he's been convinced.

"You must feel like the luckiest guy on earth with her around," Jihoon says once you leave for the night.

Soonyoung has no idea how to tell him he's felt nothing but unlucky these past few weeks, so he doesn't.

•

He polishes up on his acting. As awful as it is to think, Soonyoung has gotten really, really good.

His smile looks genuine. It has to — he shows it to Minghao, who says it's "adequate," which basically means perfect to the lowly humans beneath him.

He's gotten good at responding to you too, copying how the male leads do it in dramas and movies. It's sort of easy.

He hates how easy it is.

Soon enough, you try befriending the whole group. Being Seungkwan's friend, you've always wanted to, but apparently this is the push you needed. The boys are quick to warm up to you because, as Soonyoung's new girlfriend, you're now a new teasing target besides Chan. The youngest was always the brunt until you came along.

You say you don't mind — that his friends are amazing despite all the jokes and chaos. He believes you.

Minghao keeps his distance, saying he doesn't want to get himself involved. He's still the only one to know the truth, and his judging stare only grows worse as the days pass. Soonyoung wants so badly to make it go away, but he knows the only way to do that would be to tell you the truth, and he's just not ready.

Soonyoung's never broken a heart before. He's never planned on it.

Sometimes life makes its own plans.

"My shift got moved to tomorrow," you tell him when he picks you up from class, one hand in his and the other in your pocket. He knows it means something, but he doesn't know what. Your lips purse into a line as you stare at your shoes. “I was thinking... could I come watch your dance practice? If that’s okay?”

Now, Soonyoung loves dancing. He loves dance. He loves to dance. Performing sends an unparalleled thrill rushing through his veins like the solar system hurtling through the universe, and it’s something he’s never felt doing anything else. Dancing with others is a beautiful connection, an emission of silent truths communicated through the body. Practice, however, is the dirty version of dance. It has to be built up first — polished. Which is why Soonyoung says what he says. He doesn’t even think it over.

“No.”

It’s what he says every time someone asks. He doesn’t invite people to practices — never has. Even after his prompt refusal, he doesn’t register his mistake until the light in your eyes wavers. It doesn't disappear — just ripples. Comes back weaker than before.

"Oh," you say. The word should sound dejected but it doesn't. There's a smile at your lips, and Soonyoung can't help but think it looks kind of like his. "That's— that's okay! I was just — I don't know, I guess I just thought... I wanted to..."

Meeting his gaze, you look at him with shaking eyes, almost as if it takes great strength to keep them on his. He tries to backpedal, but you continue.

"I'll be going home then. I've got an assignment due soon anyways, so..." You pull your hand from his grip and, from where you two were walking toward the fine arts building, turn the opposite way. Your dorm is on the other side of campus. "See you tomorrow, Soonyoung. Have fun at practice."

Something about your smile haunts him.

It's hollow; feels empty when you flash it at him before going. He thinks fake smiles all look like that — insincere. His smiles at you must be the same way.

For an awful moment, he's hopeful. Maybe this will be the trigger. Maybe you'll end this tonight — whatever "this" is that Soonyoung has with you. Maybe he won't have to tell any harsh truths at all.

He turns and walks to practice.

The routine feels lighter tonight, though Soonyoung can’t pinpoint why. His body almost floats, and while that sounds good, it’s not. The rhythm is off. He’s not landing when he should be.

His crew notices, especially Chan, who complains that Soonyoung’s too much of a cocksure choreographer to be making repeated mistakes like this. They tell him maybe everyone should take a break. He agrees, but only because he’s frustrated — and he shouldn’t channel his anger into dance. Not this one, at least. 

Everyone spreads throughout the studios to the edges, where they lean their body weight on the walls and slide down, water bottles in hand. The room reeks of sweat and feet, but Soonyoung’s used to it by now. He guzzles down half of his water in one go and pulls out his phone.

[❤] Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to react all... cold? Seungkwan told me you never invite anyone to practice, so it makes total sense why you said no

[❤] If I’m ever crossing any boundaries, let me know, okay?

Of course you’d be understanding. Soonyoung wouldn’t be that lucky.

He tosses his phone haphazardly in his bag, groaning and throwing his head back so it hits the wall with a dampened thud. The pain is dull compared to the thoughts top-spinning in his mind.

Across the studio, Minghao clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Soonyoung when he opens his eyes to look at him. It only takes two reluctant nods for Minghao to understand the source of Soonyoung’s groans, and he does nothing to react but look away. Soonyoung thinks that’s almost worse than the judging eyes. At least at that point Minghao thought he was something other than a lost cause.

He doesn’t text you back. By the time he thinks of something a boyfriend would say, the time to say it has passed.

•

How much longer is he going to let this go on?

Soonyoung wonders that to himself as he sits, returned to Seungcheol's apartment for another one of his "getties" as people are so apt to call them. He's never understood the difference between a getty and a party, and he's always been too stubborn to ask, knowing he'd be mercilessly made fun of for not knowing something apparently all university students knew.

This one isn't so different from the last. More or less the same crowd, the same atmosphere as the night goes on. Only this time, when everyone's settled down in what can hardly be called a circle, Soonyoung's on the couch, sunken into the too-old cushions with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You're far from your last claimed spot with Seungkwan on that ratty old beanbag chair, sitting comfortably under Soonyoung's arm with a plastic cup of whatever Jeonghan concocted for you — which you've yet to drink much of.

Sehee sits across from you both while she laughs at something Wonwoo says. You laugh too, but Soonyoung barely notices, eyes glued to the girl they've been stuck on since she joined his dance crew over a year ago. He wants to tell her how beautiful she is when she smiles, even under the light of Seungcheol's dingy apartment, but he can't. He wants to tell her how he's felt for months, but you're next to him. He wants to have a fucking drink but all he has in his cup is fucking iced green tea because he knows if he drinks he'll fuck up again.

Just like last time.

"You okay?" you whisper in his ear at one point.

He turns to see your concerned expression, and it only makes Soonyoung hate this even more. He doesn't deserve your concern.

"I'm fine."

But he's not fine.

He doesn't participate in much conversation — only speaks when spoken to, and even then with few words. You seem to become tense next to him, but he does nothing to try and fix it. Just tonight, he's going to let himself be tired.

Three times, you offer to leave, and all three he refuses. You give up eventually, though he can tell you know something's off. God, if he were drunk, he wouldn't even have to think about you for a whole night.

Somehow the topic of discussion turns to couples, and suddenly, an entire room of eyes is on you and Soonyoung. He barely catches the question before you're already pondering your answer.

What do the two lovebirds love most about each other?

You look at him. At him, at him. He feels your stare in the dip of his throat because he can't seem to swallow anymore. It's like his soul is being scanned for viruses.

"Hmm..." You let your chin fall into your palm with a smile. It's real. Too real. "I like his resolve," you finally say. "If he wants to do something, he does it." With a loud exhale through your nose, you tilt your head, still meeting his eyes with your own. Soonyoung's mouth slightly parts, slack with something he can't name. "I could learn a thing or two from him."

The room bristles with your answer, various response piping up around. Soonyoung sort of registers Chan saying, "That's cute. I wanna vomit," but he's too busy thinking about you, about how you've come to like something about him as deep as that when all he's done is pretend to even like you at all.

And even when his mind swims with that, Sehee asks again.

"Then Soonyoung, what do you like about her?"

It sort of hurts. Soonyoung's not afraid to admit to himself that hearing Sehee ask what he likes about you sends pain straight through his ears to his heart. There's an awkward pause and everyone's looking at him expectantly and, god, he wishes he stole your drink when he had the chance.

"I..." His throat goes dry. His lips part, but there aren't any words to slip past them. "I, um..." He looks to you, and your eyes speak volumes. Everyone else in this room has a sort of... hungry look. They want to know Soonyoung's answer for one reason or another, maybe to tease with or to ridicule or even wish for themselves. But you, your eyes meet his and he knows you're not expecting anything. That hurts too. He doesn't know why. But even then, he can't think of the words. Any words. He steals a glance at Sehee, whose expression is curious, doe eyes slightly giddy from alcohol. She's pretty.

"I like her laugh," he says. It's not about you. "Whenever she laughs, I think to myself, 'What I wouldn't give to see her laugh again'."

Your eyes move to the plastic cup you've got gripped between two hands in your lap, and Seungkwan points out your flustered state to the entire room despite the fact everyone can see it as long as they've got working eyes. You purse your lips together to contain a smile, but it doesn't work. Even Soonyoung can see that.

He needs a drink. 

Having to go to the bathroom is a lousy excuse, and Soonyoung knows it, but he whispers that in your ear anyways and retracts his arm from your shoulder before escaping. He does go to the bathroom, a small thing with a shower and no bath, but all he does in there is stare at himself in the mirror. And when that becomes too much, his feet.

Someone else eventually has to use the bathroom for its actual purpose, so he opens it to the banging fist outside and slides past the person back into the hallway. He pauses before walking all the way back. You're caught up in some other conversation now, laughing and dramatically waving your hands as you deny some crazy embarrassing story Seungkwan's trying to spill about you. Seems you've already integrated yourself with his friends more than he thought.

Since your attention is occupied, Soonyoung instead ducks into the half-kitchen — not necessarily out of sight, but no one's really paying attention anyways. He knows he shouldn't take any chances, but he really, really wants to let go. He's been wearing a facade ever since he said your name that night.

"I wouldn't, if I were you."

Minghao's voice has Soonyoung jerking up and banging his head on the door of the open fridge he was rummaging through. He winces in pain, kneading his fingers into his scalp as if that will do anything.

"Wouldn't what?" he snaps.

"I dunno." Minghao shrugs, and it's almost infuriating how nonchalant he is. "Do something you might regret, I guess."

He takes the yet unopened bottle from Soonyoung's hands, reaching beyond him to put it back in place. There's no point in fighting against him since he's undeniably right, but Soonyoung grumbles anyways. His eyes glance every few seconds to you on the couch. If you happen to hear anything...

Well, he doesn't know exactly. But he doesn't want to find out.

"You have to end it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just—" Soonyoung takes in a breath, too loud for his liking. He lowers his voice. "I can't, okay? I don't want to hurt her."

"So you're just going to date her based on false pretenses because you're too much of a coward to admit your mistakes?" Voice laced with sharpness, Minghao places his palms flat on the counter.

Soonyoung takes a deep breath through his nose, lips twisting in frustration. "Yeah, okay? Yeah," he whispers. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

A second passes. Minghao's brow furrows.

"And quite frankly," Soonyoung continues, "I'd rather you keep your nosy ass out of my business from now on."

He nearly storms off right then with the last word, but Minghao's fingers around his elbow stop him.

"You're going to get yourself hurt," Minghao warns through his teeth. He nods towards you. "And her in the process."

"We'll see about that."

Soonyoung has acted on impulse before. It happened with the pigeon, it happened with your name, and it's happening right now. Nothing is compelling him other than the absolute need to prove Minghao wrong, and even then, he doesn't know why.

He sits back down next to you, his spot saved by some miracle considering the surrounding company. The look on your face is happy, jovial. You must be having a right old time. His nerves strike with a feeling he's never quite experienced before.

When you study his face, no doubt not nearly as cheerful as yours, the expression you held falters to worry.

"You okay?" is once again the question on your lips, quiet, meant for his ears only.

Impulse is a scary thing. Soonyoung hates it almost as much as lying.

He leans in, crashing his lips on yours with his eyes half closed. His lips move and yours don't. Soonyoung can't even be sure you've closed your eyes, but at this very moment, he doesn't care. All he knows is he's angry and Minghao is watching.

This isn’t your first kiss — he knows because you’ve talked to him about this very topic. This is, however, to your understanding, the first “real” relationship you’ve ever been in. You told him yourself that you don’t really count that past kiss as your first, that you felt a bit... violated when it happened.

Soonyoung thinks this isn’t all too different.

He steals your second first kiss, and later, staring at the water-stained stucco ceiling of his bedroom, he kicks himself so hard it hurts.

•

You show up to movie night. Apparently Jihoon invited you — explained it like this:

“You won’t have to be so clingy with me if she’s here.”

At first, Soonyoung thinks Jihoon just wants to drop their roommate movie nights because he’s always complained about them, but Jihoon sticks around during Anastasia; sings along with you during Once Upon a December despite the fact that neither of you really know the words. He sits right in front of you two on the couch, cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, that of which he only offers to you twice and Soonyoung once.

Whatever. You’re a better cuddler than Jihoon anyway.

Somehow it doesn’t feel forced when you lean your head on Soonyoung’s shoulder, or when he wraps his arm around your waist to get comfortable. He blames it on how tired he is, how he always gets on movie night after a week of classes and practices and too much work for one person to handle. Jihoon complains all the time that he’s too touchy when tired.

You absentmindedly play with his fingers for most of the movie. He doesn’t mind.

It’s been about a month now.

Soonyoung doesn’t kiss you again after the first time. Doesn’t stop you, either, but you’re more of an on-the-cheek kind of person. He thinks you think he wants to take this slow, even though he initiated the first big step (as convoluted as it was). He lets you think what you want.

Nasty business, it is.

Cleaning a bowl that once held popcorn. All the grease that sticks to the side because Jihoon likes to use too much butter. All the grains of salt that get underneath Soonyoung’s fingernails. He’s washing, Jihoon’s drying. It’s an arrangement of sorts.

You’ve already left for the night, gone back to your dorm since it’s only a five minute walk or so through campus. Jihoon insisted on Soonyoung escorting you, but you only smiled sweetly and refused. Maybe Soonyoung should’ve argued harder against you. He didn’t though. That’s why he’s scrubbing a bit too harshly now — he doesn’t like messing up.

Seems that’s all he’s good for lately.

“You’re unhappy.”

Soonyoung stops scrubbing. The only noise in the whole apartment is the slow gurgle of the sink because even with a plug, such an old thing just lets the hot water seep away as the seconds go by. Jihoon’s gaze is on the pan he’s drying, but Soonyoung knows his heart is in the question. It always is.

“I’m not,” he tries to deny, but it’s difficult to fool a person like Jihoon. (Especially since Soonyoung can’t even convince himself.)

The non-stick pan from yesterday’s dinner clangs against an older one when Jihoon puts it away. He looks at Soonyoung, but by then he’s turned back to washing the popcorn bowl, so their eyes don’t end up meeting.

“I’ve known you since tenth grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?”

Soonyoung finds it hard to read Jihoon’s feelings most of the time. He didn’t realize he was such an open book the other way around.

Sighing, he continues to scrub the bowl, which has probably been clean for a minute already. “I’m just... stressed.”

“About?”

Minghao already knows; already thinks lowly of Soonyoung for it. If Jihoon knew... Soonyoung doesn’t know if he can take that.

So he lies. Again.

“Just the dance showcase.”

It isn’t a whole lie, not really, but he can’t call it the truth either.

Jihoon takes the bowl from Soonyoung’s grasp and rinses it under the tap. Since that’s the last dish, Soonyoung is stuck with nothing for his hands to do. They rest on the edge of the sink, but his fingers ache for a task.

Jihoon, the friend that he is, says, “That’s not for three months, though. I’m sure you’ll be perfect by then.”

“I don’t know...”

“Well I do.” Eyes meet eyes, a pair determined, a pair apprehensive. “Everything will work out.”

“...Okay.”

•

Soonyoung measures time in terms of you now.

When he last texted you. When he last saw you. When he last spoke to you.

It’s all a very elaborate calculation — how much time he’s spent on you versus how much time he should spend on you. No relationship is quite like this one, he thinks, and it’s quite the romantic notion out of context. The fact remains, every interaction he has with you only pulls him further and deeper into his lie.

Soonyoung’s time moves a bit slower now.

Faster, sometimes, but only when he doesn’t want it to.

•

You tell him you might be in love with him.

He says he might be in love with you.

He’s never hated lying more.

•

Jihoon is cleaning out the fridge when the buzzer goes off, so since he’s close by, he picks up the old corded phone attached to the wall. From his spot on the couch, Soonyoung looks up from his phone to see Jihoon cover the receiver and mouth your name. Jihoon makes some sort of gesture with his hands, and somehow Soonyoung understands that as, were you expecting her?

His eyes widen as it settles in that no, he’s not expecting you. The apartment is a mess.

Jihoon buzzes you in, hangs up, and immediately moves from the fridge to the coffee table, throwing the laundry he was planning on folding back in the plastic hamper and shoving the pile in Soonyoung’s lap.

“Take care of this,” he says. “I’ll clear up the kitchen.”

Right. Can’t have you thinking your boyfriend and his roommate are slobs.

Soonyoung reacts quickly, standing from his spot on the couch with the laundry basket in hand. He dashes to his room, where he plans to stuff the laundry in his closet and save that problem for later, but once he gets there, he realizes his room is even worse. There are dirty clothes dispersed all over his bed and old coffee cups littering his desk. Scrambling to shove the new laundry in his closet, the dirty clothes in the now empty hamper, and gather all the paper cups in his arms, Soonyoung’s breath starts to catch.

When he emerges from his room with two armfuls of garbage, he finds you at the door with Jihoon, your face hidden in his shoulder and your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Jihoon’s arms are up, almost like he’s being held at gunpoint, and his eyes widen even further when he catches sight of Soonyoung.

“Uhh... it’s for you.”

Soonyoung can hear your quiet hiccups even though they’re muffled in Jihoon’s shirt. He can’t bear it when people cry.

Yeah, maybe he’s been pretending to like you for a long time now, but he’s not a monster.

Right?

He likes you as a person. As a friend. And there’s no way he’s letting his friend go through pain like this.

Soonyoung swiftly discards his trash into the garbage bin and approaches you and Jihoon. At the commotion, you lift your head from Jihoon’s shoulder, eyes all red and puffy. Your lips press together, emotions nearly bursting at the seams, but they finally break out when Soonyoung opens his arms wide.

“C’mere.”

You practically flail into his embrace, arms wrapping around his torso in a vice grip as you hide your face again. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay — he knows you’re not.

Jihoon stands in the doorway for a few seconds, just looking at you and Soonyoung clutching at each other in the middle of the apartment before he shuts the front door and clears his throat.

“I’ll just, uh, I’ll be — um. Mhm. Yup.”

He escapes to his room.

Soonyoung squishes his cheek to your temple as you both stay there. You’re shaking, and his arms squeeze tighter. If only he could make it stop. He doesn’t know what to say or do to make you feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, though quiet and hesitant.

You shake your head, mumbling something he can’t quite make out. He pulls back a bit, just enough to see your face and gently cup your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs rub at your cheeks, smoothing any stray tears across your skin.

“What’s that?”

“Just...” Your eyes glisten. His heart beats. “Could you please just hold me?”

And he does.

Decidedly, his bed is much more comfortable than standing in the living room, so he sways, rocking side to side with small steps that force you to walk backwards. His smile, though, is reassuring, and you follow his guidance without much complaint. He sits you down on his bed, thankful that he cleaned up beforehand, and slowly leans you down so you’re both on your sides, facing each other. Pulling you closer, he lets you rest your head on his chest. Your hand lies flat on top of him, but eventually your fingers curl, clutching a bit of Soonyoung’s shirt between them. Silent tears fall from your eyes to his chest, but he doesn’t care.

His arm underneath you wraps around, hand landing on your back so his thumb can rub soothing circles.

It’s quiet.

Funny. Soonyoung used to dislike silence with you — always felt the need to fill it with conversation or jokes or laughter. He wonders when it was last since he felt that way.

Soonyoung doesn’t know how much time passes. His eyes stick to his bedroom ceiling as he holds you close, thoughts on everything and nothing all at once. Are you asleep? Your tears stopped some time ago.

His question is answered when your voice, small and unsure, breaks the long-standing silence.

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you about it?”

He cranes his neck to look at you, but it doesn’t really work. “Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I just... I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not.”

“I know, but—”

“You’re not.”

You look up at him finally, and seeing your smile sends warmth through his blood. Your face is still looks wrecked from tears gone by, but your smile pushes all that out of the way.

“Thank you,” comes past your lips in a whisper. Then, after a moment of waiting, you say, “It’s just that... I... this — ugh.” You hide your face in his shirt again. “This is so embarrassing. I don’t even know why I got so worked up.”

Soonyoung doesn’t respond to that, just pats your back a few times and encourages you to keep going. You toy with the fabric of his shirt.

“This guy I used to know — I thought I’d never see him again, but he showed up today. Ran into him when I was walking back from the convenience store.” You bite the inside of your lip. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time, but, I don’t know, I guess seeing him just brought all these memories back all at once.”

“Bad ones?”

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Sure, you could say that.”

The silence comes back, and your brows furrow, almost like you’re trying to solve the problem all on your own. But you don’t have to. Soonyoung is here.

“Do you remember when I told you about my first kiss? Like, my real first kiss?”

Soonyoung hums. Of course he remembers.

“Back in high school, I used to have this friend. Sammy. She was — god, she was beautiful. And kind, and smart, and just... amazing. I miss her a lot. She’s abroad now, travelling the world with her sister. I think she’s in Peru now.” You chuckle at the mention of your old friend, but soon your smile twists into a frown. “This guy... I don’t like saying his name, but he liked Sammy. Everyone did, I don’t blame him for that, honestly. He was pretty popular back then — one of those sports boys, you know? Thinking about it now, he could’ve easily gotten with Sammy if he hadn’t been so conniving.”

“Conniving?”

“Yeah, he was... I don’t know how he got the idea in his head, but he came to me first. He kept hanging out with me, taking me on these... dates? But they weren’t really dates, all we did was talk about Sammy — what she liked, what she didn’t like. I knew he was using me, but I just... let him, I guess. Maybe back then I was just so caught up in being needed that I didn’t really mind being used.”

Soonyoung hugs you tighter.

“I guess he felt sorry, maybe? Right before he went to go ask Sammy out, he just... laid one on me. It was stupid. Like a pity kiss for my service or whatever. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but it felt so... degrading. Like all I deserved was some action from a conventionally good-looking guy."

Your tears come back, brimming at the edge of your eyelids.

“I don’t know, it just — it just made me feel so...”

You take a breath. Exhale.

“...worthless.”

Soonyoung doesn’t fail to see the irony here, at least, but he feels slightly lifted. Whoever this guy is, Soonyoung’s a million times better.

“You’re not worthless,” he says — because he knows it’s true.

“I know.” You readjust yourself curled around him, wiping away the tears which haven’t fallen. “I mean, I know now.” Sighing, you wrap your arm around his waist, somehow pulling him closer than he already was. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For being you. For letting me be me.”

“It is my absolute pleasure to serve you, your majesty.”

You wack him with the sleeve of your sweater. “You’re such a dork!”

Your laugh is nice. Soonyoung hopes to hear it again soon.

“You know,” you say, eyes closed as you lie there with him on his bed. “Normally I would’ve gone to Seungkwan with my problems, but tonight...”

“Tonight?”

“You make me feel safe, Soonyoung. Thank you.”

His eyes close. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “That, and if I told Seungkwan, he would’ve found the guy and beat him to a pulp.”

“Why can I see that?”

“Because it’s true.”

You stay the night.

•

With a group of friends as big as Soonyoung’s, it’s about once every blue moon that the boys find a time that works for everyone, especially coming up on finals season. They all have their own worries around this time: the dance showcase, the big play, last-minute assessments, and — of course — finals.

So when they’re all free for barbecue one night, everyone’s ecstatic. Reservations are made, gratuities are calculated, and the group chat blows up every few hours with various changes to plans. (Mostly from Mingyu, who’s eager to show off his grilling skills.)

But of course, university is university, and it’s inevitable that someone has to bail out. That someone being Soonyoung.

The dance showcase creeps up a bit faster than anyone likes, and now Soonyoung’s professor is forcing him to choreograph an entire song for some freshmen only a month before the whole thing goes onstage.

First of all, who signs up for a showcase only four weeks before the performance? Who lets them sign up?

And second of all, doesn’t his professor realize Soonyoung has a life? He’s got other dances to work on, other classes to study for, friends to have barbecue with. How is he supposed to cram an entire choreography — not the mention the time it’ll take to teach the freshmen — into his already hectic lifestyle?

But Soonyoung is a people-pleaser. He doesn’t say no.

Instead, he regretfully messages the group chat, saying he can’t hang out tonight in favour of attempting to choreograph at least a quarter of the song in one sitting. He gets the usual whining, but they all know they can’t change his mind, so it fades out fast.

What he doesn’t expect is for them to invite you instead.

“It’s a thirteen person reservation,” Seungcheol reasons. “Besides, she’s basically one of us by now.”

Soonyoung can’t exactly argue with that.

So, you go to the restaurant with them while Soonyoung heads to the studio. Minghao picks you up along with Vernon and Chan, which sends an anxious bit of worry down Soonyoung’s spine, but he does nothing about it. If Minghao wanted to tell you, he would’ve by now.

You send him a good luck text.

[🍥] Don’t let those kids work you into the ground!

He stares at your words for a bit, distracted from finding the song he’s supposed to use. Your contact name is different now — one of those naruto fishcakes because of that time you took him out for ramen. That night had been full of laughter and loud, borderline obnoxious slurping, ending with the beautiful finale of Soonyoung throwing a fishcake straight into your open mouth.

You were the one that sweet-talked you both out of getting banned.

Soonyoung finally opens his music app and finds the song the freshmen requested (a rather boring one, if you ask him) which he sets to max volume. He doesn’t bother plugging his phone into the speaker system, not when he’s the only one in the studio.

Maybe he can do this.

•

“The trick is to add eggs and use less water,” you say as you scoop more batter onto the waffle iron.

Jihoon snorts from where he sits at the table, still shoveling more whipped cream and strawberry-smothered waffle in his mouth. “Are you sure the trick isn’t to just not be Soonyoung?”

“Hey!” Soonyoung pauses his own eating just to pout. “My waffles are good!”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

Both you and Jihoon laugh at Soonyoung’s expense, only further accentuating the pout on his face. You and Jihoon are too alike in that aspect. Well, actually, Soonyoung knows you’d never laugh at him, but he still can’t be sure about Jihoon. One time, back in high school, Soonyoung tripped over (what he thought was) a dead bird, and Jihoon laughed for hours — though Soonyoung always exaggerates the story into him laughing for days.

You sit down next to him with your own plate of waffles. There’s flour dusted on your arms, but you don’t seem to mind.

“You’ve got a little...” You point a finger at the corner of your mouth.

He knows. Soonyoung can feel the cool whipped cream right where you say it is.

He smiles wide. “I’m saving it for later.”

“Hmm...”

You say nothing, just smile as you lean in, kissing the corner of his lips. It’s quick, chaste, and barely a real kiss, but Soonyoung’s heart bounces in his chest. He’s never been kissed like that before.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.

That thought, though, he pushes back for another time.

“Gross. You guys made me lose my appetite,” Jihoon says. He keeps eating.

•

With eyes drooping shut every few seconds, Soonyoung decides it’s time to call it quits on the chemistry homework. It’s nearly one in the morning, anyways. He flips his textbooks shut and gathers up all his notes, putting them all in a haphazard pile that he’ll worry about in the morning. Swivelling in his chair, his eyes land on you.

Oh. He forgot you’re here.

You’re snuggled up on top of his covers, one arm wrapped around the pillow your head should be on, eyes closed as even, slow breaths come past your slightly parted lips. One of his hoodies is draped over your legs like a blanket. He wonders why you didn’t just get under the covers.

Well, he has been walking you home ever since he hadn’t some time ago. Maybe you were waiting.

He feels a bit guilty as he brushes his teeth and washes his face, but not too bad since you only have afternoon classes tomorrow. Maybe he can treat you to something in the morning to make up for it.

After he tucks you under a fluffy throw blanket, he crawls into bed and lies on his side, facing you.

Your other hand is lax, palm up and fingers curled, almost like you’re holding something invisible.

His hand would fit perfectly.

The tips of his fingers graze over the lines on your palm. Slow. Trepidatious.

You shift, fingers unconsciously curling around Soonyoung’s hand.

He closes his eyes.

•

The moves aren’t working.

The moves aren’t working and the music isn’t working and the dance isn’t working and nothing is working.

Soonyoung groans in frustration, almost screaming with his fingers threaded through his damp hair as he messes up yet another landing. He’s drenched in sweat, and it’s only been so many hours since the rest of the crew left for the night, not that he’s kept track.

It’s less than a week until the showcase. Six days, as Chan is apt to remind everyone with his stupid holiday countdown app.

That freshmen choreography is already over and done with — Soonyoung’s made it, he’s taught it to those over-eager nuisances, and if they need anything more, that’s on them. They’re no longer his responsibility.

That’s not what has him in such a state right now.

His solo — the one he’s been planning for the entire semester — it just doesn’t... feel right. He’s been slaving over it for days now, reworking the steps, figuring out what to take out and what to replace. But the more he fixes it, the more it feels wrong.

He can’t get the steps right. He can’t get anything right.

What is wrong with him?

He starts the music again at exactly one minute, thirty-eight seconds. The moves are clear in his mind. One step. Two steps. Sweep. Spin. Jump—

He falls.

The music goes on.

Soonyoung slams his fist onto the softwood floor, cursing at his ineptitude. He stays like that for a moment, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched so tight his nails dig into his palms. The song ends, only to restart again, but Soonyoung barely notices.

Screw the music. He stands; positions himself; tries again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

He falls.

He yells out at the floor, at his feet, at whatever is holding him back.

His reflection in the mirror stares back at him.

Mind blank, he sits there, legs stretched out in front of him as he hunches over, eyes closed to the world around. His breaths come out shaky and uneven, but even though every moment sitting still feels like eternity, his lungs fail to calm.

Someone knocks on the door, and for a second, Soonyoung thinks it’s Jun coming to tell him to go home for the night. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t look up.

The door opens, he can hear the quiet shuffling of hesitant feet that have removed their shoes just because the sign on the door told them to.

“Soonyoung?”

Your voice is clear — like a single drop of water coalescing into a whole — and it cuts through the sound of blood rushing past Soonyoung’s ears.

He looks up to see you standing a good length away, almost like you’re scared to approach. You’re wearing pyjamas, a thick sweater pulled over your shoulders and fuzzy socks donning your feet. Something bulges from the pocket of your sweater.

“What are you...”

“Minghao called me.”

In the back of his mind, a small part of Soonyoung wonders exactly when you and Minghao have gotten close enough to call each other, but the thought doesn’t stay for long. It can’t, really, not when you’re in front of him.

When Soonyoung says nothing more, you take another step forward. “What’s wrong?”

To anyone else, he might say nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong.

His voice breaks when he tries to laugh.

“Everything.”

Your eyes soften, a small smile tugging at your lips. It’s not one of those pitiful smiles, he can tell, but it’s not fake, either. You bring your hands together in front of you, fiddling with the tips of your fingers as your eyes move from them to his gaze again. “I’m coming over. Is that okay?”

He nods.

First, you find his phone and turn down the music until it’s gone. You sit right behind him, legs spread on either side of his body, and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing flush to his back and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. He squirms a bit.

“I’m all sweaty,” he tries to argue, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Yeah, you are.”

He stops resisting. It’s much too hot, what with his hours of constant exercise and your thick layers, but he can’t complain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” This time it’s your turn to ask.

“...Just hold me?”

And you do.

You press a kiss to the back of his neck. Slow, soft, and when your lips leave his searing skin, your forehead replaces them.

That’s when the dam breaks.

Hot, fat tears roll from Soonyoung’s eyes down his cheeks as sobs rack through his chest. The vibrations shake him and you all at once, but your hold never falters. He can’t see anything, only a blur of what should be his legs and your arms wrapped around his stomach. His hands go to clutch at your arms, desperate to hold onto something; to not let him sink.

It’s ugly, the way he cries, but you let it happen. You hold him.

This is what it’s like.

Eventually, his desperate hands find yours, his arms crossed so his right is over your right, his left over your left. His fingers roam over the smooth backs of your hands until they reach your fingers and interlock. The palms of your hands are warm compared to his fingertips.

You’ve locked onto his body language by now — you’re fluent, so you know to continue pressing reassuring, slow kisses into his skin. You know to whisper little words that should mean nothing, but coming from your lips, mean everything.

He’s going to be okay.

For some reason, coming from you, he believes it.

You hold him until the hiccuping stops, until the tears are just dry streaks on his face, until his breath comes out in long streams instead of bursts.

His eyes stay shut as he feels you shift. One of your hands slips out of his grasp, your arm reaching back, and Soonyoung almost whines until he feels its return.

“Look,” you whisper.

It itches to open his eyes, but when he does, he sees what’s in your hand, right in front of him. A small stuffed tiger sits in your palm, positioned anatomically incorrect like a teddy bear, a velvet heart between its paws. Stitched white letters read:

Go get ‘em, tiger!

You chuckle lightly, repositioning yourself so your chin hooks over his shoulder. “Cheesy, I know. I was going to give this to you the day of the showcase, but I think you could use it right about now.”

Gingerly, Soonyoung lifts his hands together, and you place the plush in his awaiting palms.

His voice is slow to restart, but he manages to say, “Thank you.”

Hands now free, you wrap yourself around his waist again. “Anything for you.”

Such a simple sentence, that, and yet the confession sends blood to Soonyoung’s ears in the form of an awfully embarrassing blush. He runs his thumbs over the fuzzy fabric of the tiger plush.

“Soonyoung?”

“Hm?”

You press your lips to the crook of his shoulder, voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t force you to stop practicing. I know this is important to you.” Soonyoung feels your breath fan over his skin. “But I also want you to rest — you shouldn’t overwork yourself.”

One of your hands rises to his chin, guiding it up so he looks forward at the studio mirror and meets your gaze in the reflection.

“Whaddya say we do, hm?” You tilt your head, and Soonyoung thinks his pupils may be heart-shaped. “Do you want to practice more? Or can I take you home?”

“Just...” He swallows what’s left in his dry mouth. “Just once more.”

You smile. “Okay.”

As you get up, you run your hands up to Soonyoung’s shoulder and down to his hand, where you playfully pretend to pull him up with you. He laughs, hiding his face behind the tiger plush for a second before he stands, tugging your hands as he does so you fall into him when he rights himself. Both your hands are squeezed between him and you, while his unoccupied arm finds its way to your side.

Another smile tugs at your lips at the proximity. You shift your hands up so they wrap over his shoulders, linking behind his head. Leaning closer, your eyes gleam under the fluorescent lights. To the sound of silence, you sway together, waltzing in the dead of night.

“I’ll be outside, okay?”

Soonyoung’s expression tightens, eyebrows shifting in confusion. “Why?”

“Well,” you say. “I know how you feel about audiences during practice.”

Something about your smile right now makes Soonyoung feel so undeniably safe. You understand him. Never once have you questioned him over why he doesn’t invite you to practices, never once did you pressure him to change that.

“Do you know how I feel about you?”

“Hmm, do I?”

Do you?

“Stay.”

And you do.

•

Here’s the thing about dance showcases:

They’re big, they’re flashy, they take the entire year to plan, and they’re over in one night.

Soonyoung stands in the wings, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, hopefully not loud enough for anyone to hear. He watches as the group performing before his solo finishes up their dance, though he knows there is at least a minute before he’ll have to go on.

A tap on his shoulder makes him turn his head, and he sees Sehee’s smiling face.

“Nervous?” she asks, her voice hidden beneath the music.

She’s all dolled up, dressed in her costume with a sleek leather jacket to bring everything together. Her eyes glimmer just as much as her eyelids.

“You have no idea,” Soonyoung jokes, but his heart isn’t really in it.

Sehee tilts her head; blinks a few times. “You’ll do amazing. You always do.”

For what it’s worth, Soonyoung hasn’t forgotten his attraction. Sehee’s words soothe him to some extent, pump him up, even. It’s slightly terrifying — how much she still affects him even now.

You’re in the audience tonight, third row from the front, somewhere in the middle. Your seat is between Seungkwan’s and Jihoon’s, whereas all the other boys came (almost) too late and had to find seats elsewhere.

The music ends, applause erupts, and Soonyoung knows it’s his turn. He waits for the group to exit on the opposite side, and when the resounding claps quiet down, he takes the first step onstage.

Something Soonyoung has almost always known: stage lights are blinding. If they’re set up right, anyone onstage will have a damn hard time seeing anyone in the audience. He can’t see you — couldn’t during his previous performance with the crew, either. The only reason he knows you’re there is the million assuring texts you sent him before you had to turn off your phone for the show.

But he knows you’re there. He knows you’re watching.

Soonyoung stands with his left foot on the spike mark, right where he’s practiced time and time again ever since they transitioned into the space. Music floods his veins, and the world is gone.

He wouldn’t call it an escape. Soonyoung doesn’t use dance to get away, it’s not like that. This world he creates with dance — this other space where nothing exists except him and the music and the floor and the feeling — he chooses to go there. Euphoria, he thinks it might be called. Euphoric.

The space takes him. He lets it.

And then it’s over.

Soonyoung’s breath leaves him in bursts, his shoulders heaving despite how hard he fights to keep them still in his final pose. His back faces the audience, his right arm stretched out and up, fingers curling around nothing. Stars dance before his eyes — which he fails to catch with his outstretched hand.

He thinks he can faintly hear applause, but it’s nothing compared to the heart beating in his chest. Your voice plays in his ears, yet he knows it’s simply his imagination — his recollection.

I like your dance, you’d said that night. I’m no expert, no judge, but I like it. I love it, honestly. Your dancing... I don’t know. I wish I had the words. It’s like... a little box.

A little box?

You’ve got a little box in your hand. Brown, maybe the size of your palm. You open it and there’s no bottom, no sides, no shape, just an expanse of universe in blues and pinks and purples and whatever colours we don’t know exist. You look inside and reach your hand in, somehow fitting in the tiny yet infinite space. Your fingers brush through starlight like strands of silk, like the rays are minnows you’ve met during a summer dip. Like that. A little box.

I thought you said you didn’t have the words?

I don’t. Not enough.

Soonyoung vaguely registers the lights going black, the way his feet drift him offstage, the music of the seniors’ finale.

At some point, the lights are back on. Not the stage lights, but the harsh fluorescents once the audience has fully filtered out into the lobby. Most of them will leave, but the family and friends of performers are sure to stay, waiting there to congratulate and fawn over the dancers as soon as they’re let go for the night. Somewhere in his mind, Soonyoung knows his friends are outside waiting for him — him, Jun, Minghao, and Chan.

Roses are passed around. He’s never seen a blue rose before, but some dancers walk around with them as they change out of costume and gather their things. He points out a yellow rose from the bunch presented to him, but it turns out to be a bouquet for him specifically, and he takes the whole thing with his jaw slightly hanging. Everything’s a bit... slow. Soonyoung feels like he’s wading through water.

He hasn’t changed yet, simply standing in his costume as he watches people go back and forth. Other performers move from dressing room to dressing room, cleaning up what they have to while simultaneously patting each other’s backs. Techs go around making sure everything’s in order, nothing lost or forgotten. They put away the MC’s microphones and bother the dancers for not taking proper care of props even though it’s only been one night.

Another tap on his shoulder; it’s Sehee again.

“Can I talk to you?” she asks.

He follows her to a corner of the stage, where the curtains hang and hide the two — for the most part.

She turns almost too abruptly, causing Soonyoung to stumble over his own two feet to avoid bumping into her.

“This is really hard for me to say,” she starts. “But I have to get it out.”

Soonyoung nods, maybe saying something close to a confirmation, but he can’t really tell. He’s a little lightheaded. Sehee has changed out of her leather, instead now in a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. That’s the thing about Sehee, though, she has that unnamed sort of... effortless beauty. Even with her stage makeup wiped off, she glows.

“This might be one of the last times I ever work with you, you know? Next year, my parents are making me quit dancing so I can focus on my major. It sucks, yeah, but they’re right. I need to focus if I want to succeed. You know that too, don’t you? The need to succeed?” She takes a breath; laughs bitterly. “Sorry, I’m getting off track... I just — I wanted to tell you this because if I don’t tonight, I might never get the chance again.”

Maybe Soonyoung has dreamed of this moment. He can’t be sure, not yet, so he lets her continue.

“I like you, Soonyoung. I have for a while. But things happened, and you got together with...” her voice trails off. “And you seemed happy, after a while. I thought maybe I could just keep it hidden but, I don’t know, I think I need to tell you, to get closure because I'm not sure if I can go on without at least—”

Choices. Soonyoung — and everyone else in the world — has only made it through life with decisions. He’s made good ones. Bad ones. He’s had regrets and he’s had none. This, though, this choice is intensely apparent.

Apparent in the way he knows it will affect much more than he wishes.

He kisses her.

God, this is what he wanted, right? What he’s wanted for so long. He used to toss and turn at night over the thought of Sehee’s eyes; her smile; her lips.

And on his, they were heaven. Plump and soft just like the romance novels say, moving at the exact pace of his heartbeat.

The hand holding his bouquet drops to his side as the other goes to cup Sehee’s cheek. Faintly, the sound of paper fluttering to the ground reaches his ears, but nothing can distract him from this moment.

Until, of course, it ends.

Sehee pulls away. “We can’t— I don’t—”

Someone clears their throat.

Soonyoung turns, finding Minghao standing just off from the curtains, arms crossed and face contorted in thinly-veiled anger.

And you.

You’re standing next to Minghao, obviously shocked — over being seen or what you’ve seen, Soonyoung doesn’t know. Hands fisted and held close to your chest, your eyes widen as they meet Soonyoung’s.

It’s not so dramatic as the movies.

Soonyoung stares at you, tongue unmoving with nothing to say. You stare back, almost frozen, until Minghao gently takes you by your shoulders, forcing you to turn and leave the way you must’ve come. Nothing happens in the time it takes. Soonyoung simply watches.

He’s never been good at reading lips, but he thinks he knows exactly what Minghao whispers in your ear.

There’s something you should know.

Sehee mutters, “Sorry,” and leaves. She looks guilt-ridden as she does, but even in his half-frozen state, Soonyoung knows all of this is on him.

He stands alone in that corner of the stage, the only noise being the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of the last stragglers in the dressing rooms. His hands clench, and the brown paper of the bouquet crumples. He looks at it then, at the yellow roses and baby’s breath, at the beige note that’s fallen to the floor.

Slowly, he crouches, picking up the note with his thumb and forefinger.

Congratulations Soonyoung!! I know how hard you’ve worked for this night, which is why I ordered these to be delivered. Joshua told me yellow roses represent happiness, or something. Pretty, right? You deserve every happiness, so I decided to start with flowers. Tonight may be over, but who knows, maybe we’ll find happiness in tomorrow, too.

It’s stupid. It’s not a love letter. It’s laced with love, though, and he hates that he recognizes your handwriting.

Time moves heavily as Soonyoung turns to the backstage door. He’s the only one left now, his station in the second boy’s dressing room is messy, unlike everyone else’s. His reflection stares back at him while he sits in front of the mirror, motions halved in speed as he wipes off his eye makeup.

It’s over.

When was the last time he thought about how it would end?

He changes out of costume, arms growing stiff, and stuffs everything in his bag without much care for how. His regular clothes itch; he longs to scratch at his skin, but he doesn’t.

He leaves your bouquet on the counter.

His friends stand in a circle in the lobby, brows furrowed and voices hushed as they discuss... something. Soonyoung has a bad feeling he knows exactly the topic. Minghao isn’t there. Nor are you.

Jihoon isn’t around, either, but Soonyoung remembers he had to leave immediately after the performance. Something about an essay. It doesn’t really matter now, not compared to this.

When he approaches his friends, they quiet down further. Half of them look his way with a frown, while the other half choose to avert their eyes. What do they know?

Seungkwan stands out the most. His arms are crossed, his lips are pressed together in a thin line, and anger radiates from his very being. Of course he’s mad. You’re his friend.

The silence consumes Soonyoung as he nearly shrivels under his friends’ gazes. He must have taken his time, the lobby is empty except for them.

“Where’s Minghao?” he asks.

Seungkwan lurches forward, but both Seungcheol and Wonwoo bring up their arms to hold him back. 

“Where’s Minghao? Where’s Minghao?” he seethes. He jabs an accusatory finger in Soonyoung’s face. “You just kissed some girl and broke my best friend’s heart and you’re asking about Minghao?!”

So they don’t know. Not really.

Soonyoung endures the scolding. The looks. The questions. The noise.

No answers are really given.

The great thing about having best friends is that they know not to pamper you when you’ve done wrong. That’s also the worst thing about having best friends.

Seungkwan would go on and on, surely, but soon enough the boys notice how little Soonyoung is reacting — how his face and expression is slack and dull.

Joshua holds up a finger to quiet down the ones still complaining, then gestures towards the front entrance.

“Minghao left with her a while ago.” The look on his face is one of pity. Soonyoung hates it.

He nods; stuffs his hands in his pockets as he turns to the door.

“Wait! I’m not done—!” Seungkwan struggles against Wonwoo and Seungcheol, but he’s no match.

Soonyoung doesn’t stick around long enough to hear what happens next.

He has no sense of what to do when he walks out that door. Go home, maybe.

The night breeze hits him with more force than it should, making his eyes go dry and his lips tremble. Outside, everything is almost too loud. There’s traffic on all sides, surrounding the lot of the theatre; the sound of humming engines and honking horns assaults his senses.

He walks — though it feels like wandering — to the parking lot, where he plans to look around for a bus stop.

You’re there.

A mirage, he thinks at first, but you’re really there, sitting on one of those concrete barriers, legs outstretched and ankles crossed. You have your head lowered as you sit, hands braced on the cold concrete.

His held breath escapes him, and you look up.

“You’re here,” you say. The smile on your lips, ever so slight and ever so bitter, causes a ringing in his ears. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“I...”

“It’s a lie, right?” Your eyes glisten, but no tears fall. “You wouldn’t— I’m not— I’m not that naive, am I?”

Soonyoung’s lips part, but nothing moves past them. His hands itch to leave his pockets, but with nothing to reach for, they stay still.

“...I see.”

You drop your head again, bringing your hands together to fiddle with your fingernails. He hears your breath, shaky as it is, and his lungs constrict.

“God, it felt so real. I thought— I guess I don’t know what I thought, huh?” A shiver runs through you. “Was any of it real?” you ask the ground.

Soonyoung longs to answer. That’s the thing, though.

He doesn’t know.

Can any of it be real?

You laugh. Before, your laugh was spring strawberries; summer warblers; winter snowdrops. Now, your dry laughter echoes in Soonyoung’s mind like a pebble in a failed attempt of skipping stones.

“Guess not.”

You hop off the concrete barrier, wiping off your pants of dust and dirt. Still, you don’t meet his eyes.

Soonyoung’s heart beats in a way he knows isn’t natural. Guilt seeps through every orifice. “You’re not... you’re not yelling at me. You’re not crying — you’re not angry,” he stumbles through. “Why?”

It’s then that when you meet his eyes, he notices the dried tracks lining your cheeks. You have been crying, just in the time it took for him to come across you.

“I’m just disappointed in myself, Soonyoung,” you say. “I’m the one who fell for it so easily. I’m the one that was tricked. I’m the one who—” a breath “—who loved someone that didn’t love me back.” You step closer, arms limp at your side. “Once I get home, sure, I’ll cry my eyes out. Is that what you want to hear? I’ll curse myself for being so... so stupid.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“No, it’s not. This is not my fault. All I did was believe the words you said to me. All I did was hand myself to you on a silver platter.” Unshed tears brim at your eyelids, but it seems you refuse to let them fall. “But you know the worst part, Soonyoung?”

Everything?

“The worst part is I can’t yell at you. I’m not angry because I fell in love with someone who doesn’t love me back and it hurts and I can’t bring myself to hate you despite being told you’ve never thought about me the way I think about you.”

A breathy gasp escapes you, and you turn on a dime, the sight of your back an icy reminder to Soonyoung of what he’s yet to learn. You take a deep breath to gather yourself, shoulders rising and falling.

“I’ll be going now. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

Soonyoung doesn’t move from his spot when you walk away, or when you get into Minghao’s car, which pulls away after a moment of sitting there in its parking spot. His feet are stuck in stiff mud, unable to shift, even.

Perhaps he stands there for too long. It’s not until he’s staring down the front of his apartment that he realizes one of his friends must have dropped him off.

•

He hasn’t heard from you in a few days. He hasn’t heard from anyone in just as long.

Jihoon already knew (not everything, but enough) by the time Soonyoung rolled out of bed the day after. He hasn’t said anything about it, but Soonyoung can tell this silence isn’t the same as usual. They rarely eat meals together anymore. Last movie night, Jihoon didn’t even pretend to be busy, instead saying he simply wasn’t in the mood.

Seungkwan hasn’t left your side ever since... that happened. If Soonyoung happens to see you on campus, which is almost never, he backs out of approaching you because of the sheer force that is Seungkwan’s glare. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say even if he did find the courage to face you.

Classes go by in blurs. Not quickly, like scenery past a car window, but so slow that once Soonyoung leaves, he remembers nothing but hours upon hours of staring at his empty notebook, even if the lecture was only fifty minutes long. Days are kind of like that too.

•

Sehee apologizes. She shouldn’t, but she does.

Soonyoung didn’t really hate what he did at first. He liked her, after all.

But when Sehee chokes on her own words, pleading to whoever will listen that she’s not that kind of girl, Soonyoung regrets kissing her more than he ever wanted to kiss her in the first place.

•

please let me explain

I’m sorry

it’s been a while, but still

I’m sorry

[🍥] Explain what?

[🍥] ...

[🍥] Soonyoung?

sorry I just

I wasn’t expecting you to answer

[🍥] Maybe I shouldn’t have

no

wait

I’m sorry

[🍥] So I’ve heard

I just want you to know why what happened, happened

[🍥] But I already know why

it’s not that simple

[🍥] You lied because you suck at lying. Because you knew Sehee was there that night and panicked. I was just collateral damage

[🍥] ...

[🍥] No answer, huh?

[🍥] So it really is that simple

please wait

I’m just trying to figure myself out

[🍥] Let me help you

[🍥] You want my forgiveness because you feel guilty. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you want me to say I forgive you just so you won’t have to carry this around for the rest of your life

[🍥] I know this isn’t some romcom. I know you’re not here to get me back

[🍥] So just let it go

[🍥] Let’s just forget about this. About what happened

what if I can’t

[🍥] I don’t know

[🍥] Figure it out, I guess

[🍥] But do it on your own

•

Soonyoung doesn’t measure his time anymore.

He wakes up. He eats. He goes to class. He skips lunch. He goes home. He eats. He falls asleep.

When was the last time he went out with someone? When was the last time he had a real conversation?

He doesn’t know.

•

[Minghao] You should tell everyone else

why

[Minghao] Would you rather they think you’re a cheater or just an idiot?

I don’t know

[Minghao] I think they deserve an explanation

[Minghao] Want me to do it for you?

does it even matter anymore

[Minghao] It’s your choice

[Minghao] You just have to make it

then tell them

I don’t care

[Minghao] Are you sure?

tell them

•

These days, Soonyoung stays late at the studio. No one really practices there anymore, not since the showcase finished and finals have rolled around. Actually, Soonyoung should be studying too, but he can’t find the motivation. He thinks it might be the guilt.

You were right. He doesn’t want to carry this around.

The thing is, despite spending entire evenings in the studio, he can’t remember anything as he walks home. It must be hours spent in there, and yet, when he walks out, he can’t recall a thing. Like he was never there at all.

Where does the time go?

With his luck, the elevator is broken when he returns to the apartment building, so he has to take the stairs. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but after hours of mindless, sloppy dancing, he’s much too tired. He fumbles with his keys when he tries to open the door, and he rests his forehead on the cool wood for a moment, sighing before he tries again.

The door creaks open. Though it’s late, the lights are still on, which Soonyoung frowns at when he realizes. Lately, Jihoon is never up when Soonyoung comes home. But there he is, sitting at the table right next to the kitchen with his eyes on his hands and his feet tucked under the chair.

Soonyoung freezes after shutting the door behind him, not wholly sure what to make of the scene before him.

After a moment of silence, Jihoon looks up from his fingers and meets Soonyoung’s gaze.

“Minghao called me today,” he says.

Soonyoung gulps, but doesn’t respond — doesn’t know how to.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first, you know.” His voice is slow, croaky; tired. “But it sort of makes sense, doesn’t it. I don’t know how I didn’t see it from the start.”

Slowly, Soonyoung slips off his shoes and steps further into the apartment. “So now you know. I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now.”

“I just have a question.”

Soonyoung pauses, halfway through the apartment and only a few meters from his bedroom door. He turns to face Jihoon, sighing through his nose and digging his palm into his eye sockets. “Fine,” he concedes. “What?”

“If you never loved — never liked her, why are you acting like this now?”

“Acting like what?”

“Like a dead man walking.”

Soonyoung scoffs, a dry, empty sound as he looks away for a moment before meeting Jihoon’s gaze again. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks. “I lied to someone for months. I pretended to love someone I didn’t. I used her because of my own stupidity and pride, and then I used Sehee, too—” Pausing, he closes his eyes; takes a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s guilt. I feel guilty for... for everything.”

“That’s the only reason?”

“Excuse me?”

Jihoon rhythmically taps the pads of his fingers on the table. It’s not loud enough to be heard, but Soonyoung’s eyes train to the sight. “It’s only the guilt?”

“What else would it be?”

This time, it’s Jihoon who sighs. He looks at his hands again for a second. “Do me a favour,” he says without looking up.

“Look, I already—”

“Just do what I say.”

Soonyoung groans, but he knows he can’t argue with Jihoon and win — not now at least. He rubs his eyes, shoulders rising and falling as he takes in a deep breath. Mumbling under his breath, he says, “Fine.”

Jihoon stands from his chair, and in such stagnant silence, the sound of the legs squeaking on the floor is profound. He points to the middle of the apartment, the large bit of floor-space that’s too big to be considered part of the kitchen but too small to house any furniture.

“Stand right there.”

“...What?”

Without answering, Jihoon simply points at the floor again, and Soonyoung can only groan in defiance as he moves to stand in that spot. Grabbing a throw pillow from the couch, Jihoon steps a few feet away, facing Soonyoung with the pillow held in one hand at his side. He seems to consider something for a moment.

Soonyoung has never been unable to read Jihoon this much, so he asks, “What is this all about—”

Jihoon screams. Not a high-pitched screech, but a guttural battle cry, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen. Faster than he can comprehend, Jihoon runs towards him and tackles him to the ground. Soonyoung’s legs crumble as he falls, and he feels the throw pillow pressing onto his face.

This is it, he thinks. This is how he dies.

“Jihoon!” he cries, but his protest is muffled by the pillow. “What the fuck are you—!”

“You fucking idiot! You don’t know shit!”

“I know that!” Soonyoung thrashes to get the pillow off, but Jihoon is way stronger than he looks.

“You miss her you fucking buffoon! You’re all in your doom and gloom because you had a good thing going and had to go fuck it up!”

“I don’t!”

“Don’t try to argue with me, fucker, I know you better than anyone. Now scream!”

The pillows squishes further down, and while Soonyoung can still breathe, it’s far from comfortable. He continues to struggle even though he knows it’s useless.

“What?!”

“Scream into the pillow! You’re mad at yourself and you should be! Let it all out!”

“I—”

“Scream!”

And he does. He lets out a loud bellow that’s nothing but sound roaring from his lungs. He does it mostly to appease Jihoon — so that maybe he’ll finally get off.

But it feels good.

No, not good, really. It feels awful. Everything feels awful. Yet, something about screaming makes him want to do it again. He yells once more into the pillow, the sound muffled in the fabric and yet intensely remarkable. He screams and he screams and he screams until he can’t scream anymore and his voice is raw and there’s no more sound aside from the fractured gasps of his sobs. Tears soak into rough fabric, and he doesn’t even notice that Jihoon isn’t holding the pillow anymore — he’s pressing it to his face himself. His body shakes under Jihoon. Soonyoung feels pathetic, but he can’t stop.

He tries again to scream into the pillow, but his voice cracks and all he knows is to cry.

This is what it’s like.

Quietly, Jihoon maneuvers himself so he sits by Soonyoung’s head. He slowly lifts a corner of the pillow and peeks at Soonyoung’s red face. “So,” he whispers, voice soft and full of care. “What are you going to do now?”

Soonyoung wraps his arms around the pillow, hiding his face again.

“I don’t know,” he says. He’s never felt less sure of anything. “I don’t know.”

•

That night, Soonyoung cleans his room. He doesn’t reorganize or anything, just picks discarded clothes up off the ground and throws them in a hamper, spreads his blankets so his bed actually looks bed-like, and takes his overflowing garbage bin out to the door, where he’ll take it out tomorrow morning. As he stretches his arm between his bed and the wall, his fingers close around the sweater he’s trying to reach and... something else. When he brings his hand back up, a small tiger plush stares back at him.

Go get ‘em, tiger!

He stares at the words for a moment, sitting up on his bed and leaning his back against the wall. The plush feels frail in his hands, almost like the velvet heart held in the tiger’s paws could crumble at any moment. Maybe it will.

Soonyoung settles down above the covers that night, and the tiger sits on his other pillow.

The one that still smells like you.

•

He cries. (For the second time since you left.)

•

After everything that’s happened, one would think it would take a miracle to fix what’s been broken. Soonyoung thinks it will take more than that, but still; he’s no miracle worker. He thinks it will take magic to just see you again.

Turns out, it takes a coffee.

Jihoon forces Soonyoung to join him in visiting one of the campus cafes. He doesn’t think about it too much, just believes Jihoon’s trying to keep him alive with a little kick of caffeine. That thought is pushed away when Jihoon blocks him from sitting at the little table, pointing instead across the space to the student printing center.

You’re talking to a customer at the front counter, forearms rested on the white faux marble. A smile is on your lips as you say whatever it is you’re saying to the girl, and Soonyoung finds it almost impossible to tear his eyes away. But he does. He scans the rest of the building for a second. Seungkwan is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Minghao.

He turns to Jihoon, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“She told the bodyguards to back off,” Jihoon explains without needing to be asked. “It’s been a few days.” He nods his chin towards you. “Go on. Talk to her.”

Soonyoung shakes his head, gulping down the words he can’t yet think of. “I don’t... I’m not... ready.”

“If you back out now, you’re going to keep backing out until it’s too late.”

Jihoon’s eyes blaze with an unfitting determination for such a setting. He looks stupid, like some self-made, all-knowing relationship guru who likes the coke he’s gripping too much. Still, he’s right.

Soonyoung licks his dry lips and looks at you again. You’ve sat down, relaxed after having helped that customer and now conversing with one of the other students working there. He misses the way you looked when you were happy — when you were happy with him.

What will it take to see that again?

What will it take to hold you again?

His feet move before his doubts can stop him, and the scene feels awfully familiar. This time though, Soonyoung can’t help but feel like the bad guy.

You don’t notice him until he’s right in front of you, and he doesn’t know what hurts more: the immediate frown, or the fake smile you use to cover it up.

“Hi, what can I do for you today?”

If Soonyoung had to define heartache, he might use this moment. Feigning to forget rather than acknowledging the past... it’s effective, but it hurts.

“Can...” He hesitates and curses himself for it. “Can we talk?”

“About printing, yes. About anything else? I really would rather we didn’t,” you say under your breath. It’s hushed, and you don’t shy away when Soonyoung leans closer to hear. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

“But there’s something I need to say.”

“I don’t think I want to hear anymore apologies, Soonyoung.”

“It’s not that,” he argues.

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “It’s not an apology?”

“No— I mean, well, yes I want to apologize. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing, but— but that’s not what I—”

“Soonyoung.”

He stops at your word, knowing that speaking will only get him further into trouble. Around you, his words keep failing. Instead, he meets your eyes, which under more inspection, seem hardened.

Have eyes ever looked so hardened when brimmed with tears?

“I don’t know if you know this, but seeing you makes me hate myself.” By now, your coworker has walked to the back, probably to respect your privacy. Your voice almost cracks. “I’ve felt worthless before, but Soonyoung, do you even realize what that — what you did to me?”

He barely breathes before saying, “What if I... what if I said I fell in love with you? Somewhere along the way?” A pause. Your eyes waver, but steady themselves. “What if I said I love you?”

“Soonyoung,” you say after a second.

“Yes?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

•

[🍥] Give me a reason to give you a chance

this is real right?

[🍥] It’s not a dream if that’s what you’re asking

all of a sudden??

[🍥] Minghao and Jihoon said I should

[🍥] And I think I should too

[🍥] But it’s hard

[🍥] What you said yesterday... I don’t know if I can believe it just yet

will you meet me?

I want to see you

[🍥] Can you give me some time?

yes

all the time you need

but will you?

will you meet me?

[🍥] I don’t want to

[🍥] But then again, I do

[🍥] Just give me some time

•

A strange thing, time. It passes by much too quickly when you want it to last, and it drags on when all you want is to be there. There; right then; right now.

Soonyoung stays up late turning on and off his phone, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.

It’s only been two days.

Jihoon thinks he’s crazy, though he hasn’t said it out loud — Soonyoung can tell.

He also thinks he might be a little crazy, but that’s okay. If it means he’ll get the chance to make it up to you... maybe he’s fine with being crazy.

At some point, Jihoon barges into his room and takes away Soonyoung’s phone, snatching it straight out of his hands like the little thief he is. He keeps it out of reach despite being shorter, preaching bullshit like, “You need to calm down and act like a normal person!”

Fine, whatever.

Soonyoung goes out for some air. And instant ramen.

There’s a twenty-four hour convenience store right on the edge of campus, manned by a single tired university student that everyone is aware of, yet no one really seems to know his name. It’s one of those spots where time doesn’t exist; maybe names don’t, either.

Compared to the blackness of night, the blanch white convenience store sticks out like a sore thumb, especially with all the bright posters and fluorescent tube-lights. Soonyoung feels just as out of place with no people around just outside the store, but really, it’s to be expected at a time like two in the morning.

He’s right at the door when it chimes and slides open. And so are you.

Both of you freeze where you are, you in the doorway and he just in front. His jaw slacks slightly as he takes you in.

You’re in casual clothes again, a thick sweater and presumably pyjama pants. This version of you comes with good memories — for some reason he likes it more than he cares to admit. Maybe he liked that you could share a more vulnerable side to him, and he to you in return. Although, you’ve shown this side to even the unnamed convenience store guy.

It’s your voice that breaks him from his reverie.

“Soonyoung,” you say, and it’s softer than before. Maybe your voice is lighter from the fact that it’s two in the morning, maybe just because you’re tired, but a small part of Soonyoung wishes that it’s something else — that you sound softer because you’ve missed him too.

He hopes it isn’t just hope.

He says your name, the sound beautiful and battered on his tongue. A small smile passes your lips, so fast that he almost misses it, but he doesn’t. That’s one thing he knows about you: how much you care. Even if someone hurts you, you always take the time to hear them out. You give them chances. Soonyoung should thank his lucky stars that you’ve done the same for him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You smile again, and it reaches your eyes, however sad.

“Is it time?” he asks.

“It can be.” The plastic bag in your hand crinkles as you sway it back and forth. “Do you want it to be?”

“Yeah.” His voice comes out like a breath. “Please.”

“Then that’s what we’ll make it.”

You gesture to the ground, where the curb meets the asphalt, but Soonyoung is still a little shocked that he’s even met you here in the first place, so he watches, dazed, as you sit down on the curb before joining in. He stays silent as you pull out an ice cream cup and hand it to him. He stays silent as you procure a second one and peel open the plastic lid, digging into it with the wooden stick spoon-wannabe that comes with the package. He stays silent as you look at him, the wooden stick hanging from your mouth.

“So,” you say, scraping the side of the paper cup. Meeting his eyes, you sport a sly smile. “I hear you’re in love with me.”

The ice cream stays unopened in his hands. He finds it so easy to smile back.

“Yeah. I think I am.”

“You think you are?”

“I’ve never loved someone like this before,” he tries to explain, though the words are slow to his tongue. “I can only think.”

“I guess so.”

“But—” he looks at his fingers, fiddling with the plastic lid of the cup, and a small laugh escapes “—I’m thinking really, really hard.”

You laugh too; his heart blooms.

“Is that so?” you tease, smiling around the wooden spoon. “It’s gonna take more than that.”

“I think I can do it.”

“You think?”

“I think really hard.”

Soonyoung might be in love with every part of you, even if he never realized. Your laugh, your smile, your tells, your habits. He wishes he knew sooner, that this laugh could’ve been his forever long before now.

You scrape the last drops of ice cream out of the paper cup and leave the stick in your mouth, a bit chewed up. Your shoes tap against the asphalt, the rhythm something that draws both his and your eyes.

“You know...” you say, turning your head to meet his gaze once more. “You know you hurt me, right? You know this won’t be easy?”

“None of what we had was easy.”

A scoff runs past your lips. You bump your shoulder against his. “Speak for yourself. I fell hard and fast for you, asshole.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.” You take the still unopened ice cream from his hands and stuff it right back in the bag it came from. “Say it again, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm... maybe it’ll take a few more times.”

“I’m—”

“But not tonight,” you say. “Tonight...”

Your hand beside him closes the distance, grazing over his and pulling it over to your lap.

“...just hold me?”

And he does.

Bonus (gn) epilogue: Fluff and Context Bonus (gn) blurbs: [a fate of my choosing][pick a struggle]

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