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#enhypen angst fic
ja3yun · 2 months
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Push My Buttons | L.HS
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bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!
_____
Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.
"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.
“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.
Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.
Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.
You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.
Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.
To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 
It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 
Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.
With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.
Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.
He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 
Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.
You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.
“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”
Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.
“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.
“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.
Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.
With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.
The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.
“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.
"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt
The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.
Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 
“I don’t work here, I-”
“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.
Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration
But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 
Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.
As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.
You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.
Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.
Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 
You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.
“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 
Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 
“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 
You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.
Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 
This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.
Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.
You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.
Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 
It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 
With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.
_____
As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.
Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 
The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.
A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 
“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.
“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.
Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.
But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.
You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.
His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.
He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.
As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.
His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.
You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.
“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.
Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.
Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..
"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.
"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.
Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.
"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.
"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.
Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.
It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.
Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.
You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.
"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.
“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.
“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.
The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.
You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.
“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.
Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.
Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.
"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.
You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.
Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."
This is going to end disastrously.
_____
"Remember—"
"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.
Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.
You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.
"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.
He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'
As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.
The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.
Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.
It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.
Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.
"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.
Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.
"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.
True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.
As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.
Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.
Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.
And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.
Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.
Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.
This is what he has to tell himself every day.
He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.
As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.
But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.
"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.
You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.
Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."
You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.
Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."
His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.
Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”
“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.
As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.
You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.
But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 
"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.
"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"
Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.
Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.
His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.
Either way, you need to get this steam out. 
“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 
As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.
Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.
But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.
Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.
"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.
“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.
As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.
Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 
“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.
"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.
You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.
His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"
“Yes! Obviously!”
Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.
But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.
Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 
He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.
With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.
Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"
Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 
Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.
The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.
Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."
A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.
But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.
With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."
“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.
“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”
Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.
He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.
With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.
Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.
"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.
Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.
Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.
Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 
As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.
“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.
Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.
With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”
Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.
“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.
Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.
Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.
“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”
Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.
He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.
“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”
Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.
The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.
“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.
You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.
2K notes · View notes
urszn · 29 days
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SUNGHOON BF TEXTS
♡ 。゚ idol!sunghoon x idol!fem reader
genre : fluff, comedy ( want more check pt.2 )
warnings : cursing and that literally it i think (lmk if there’s more)
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note: my first time doing these text thingys 😭 that’s crazyy anyways hi
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slmjaeyuns · 11 months
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⋆。゚ jake sim fics that feed my brainrot ゚。⋆
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my sweet, sweet love
warning: there are suggestive themes/smut that may be embedded throughout the fluff and angst fics as well)! please dni if that makes you uncomfortable!! minors dni, please‼️
part two jake fic rec list here!
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩
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all time favourites ♡
(fics contain a combination of genres including fluff, angst, suggestiveness, smut)
♡ unrequited love
♡ act now, think later!
♡ watermelon sugar
♡ pov
♡ your name
♡ jake sim: the first love trope
♡ kiss and make up
♡ skin on skin
skin on skin pt. 2
♡ behind closed doors
♡ brand new moves
♡ good boys go to heaven
♡ let you break my heart again
♡ ready? set…touchdown! tutor?
♡ i’ll save you (again)
♡ be my backyard boy
♡ scooby dooby doo, lookin’ for boo!
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fluff ❀
❀ too close
❀ safety precautions
❀ attention, please! (rugby jake)
❀ three questions (he wished were never answered)
❀ the partner project
❀ you can find me in your arms
❀ somewhere in forever
❀ sick
❀ taste of your lips
❀ room for two
❀ 3:04 am
❀ einstein kisses
❀ kisses in the rain
another day(te) in the rain
❀ unnamed (drabble)
❀ i’ve never known someone like you
❀ fake
❀ t-shirt
❀ i love me better when i’m with you
❀ wrong order
❀ prince jake
❀ greeting
❀ jake as a boyfriend (headcannons)
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angst ☽
☽ glimpse
☽ the sun
☽ worries
☽ if only i could have treated you the way you deserved
☽ sweetly
☽ skater boy
☽ please remember me when our youth is gone
☽ green with envy
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suggestive/smut ☁︎
☁︎ s.o.s - skin on skin
☁︎ ping! we should fuck
☁︎ best mistake
☁︎ change up!
☁︎ air dropping love at 305
☁︎ under the influence
☁︎ simp
☁︎ nonsense
nonsense pt.2
☁︎ boyfriend
☁︎ bad boy gone good
☁︎ my neighbour’s son
my neighbour’s son pt.2
☁︎ silly mistake
☁︎ happy birthday mr. sim
my shy husband
☁︎ drunk texting
☁︎ shooting star
☁︎ best friends!
☁︎ polaroid lust
☁︎ (i just) died in your arms
☁︎ only kisses
☁︎ 12:30 am
☁︎ burn for you
☁︎ ride
☁︎ wish come true
☁︎ mischief
☁︎ what are we?
☁︎ after game
☁︎ loser no more
☁︎ attention, please!
☁︎ double lines
☁︎ love foolish
☁︎ forget me not
☁︎ sex express
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fairyofhee · 9 months
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ONE OF YOUR GIRLS.
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PAIRING. heeseung x afab!reader
SYNOPSIS. It was difficult to contradict the rumors of you being obsessed with Lee Heeseung. But it was all true that you had a huge crush and a few wild fantasies about him. You were aware of his infamous reputation of how many girls he’s taken to his bed, yet you still wanted to be one of his.
WARNINGS. angst, fluff, contains smut! MINORS DNI. first time, fingering, unprotected sex, pull-out method. 7k words.
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It started happening a few days ago when you heard the whispers of people making unsettling remarks about you. Apparently, you were obsessed with Lee Heeseung.
But the rumors were not true. You barely acknowledged Lee Heeseung’s existence, you certainly do not have the biggest crush on him, and most definitely didn’t have the fantasy to fuck him. These are wild statements to come out of someone’s mouth, but those were just rumors.
Well, that’s what you wanted people to think. It’s true that you have a crush on Heeseung, a huge one that gives you constant butterflies, in fact. It started off as small feelings in middle school because you just found him cute. Then in high school, you started to gain real feelings, an admiration for him. He was the smartest dude in school, the captain of the basketball team, and he was always soft spoken and sweet to anyone he talked to. It was impossible not to fall for him.
With all these years of having these feelings, you barely talked to him, even if being in the same circle of friends. Though, things started to change this school year. The friend group started to hang out often since ways would be parted for college next year. You and Heeseung started talking more and you even got to know each other better, which made you hopeful for something more.
But soon, you were met with bitterness, a feeling close to heartbreak. He started getting distant from everyone — especially from you. You overheard from the chatters around school that Heeseung was a major fuckboy now who slept with the girls at school. You never judged him, despite the aches in your chest that it caused.
The girls who slept with him would brag about how good he was. Heeseung, the sweet guy he is, was the sweetest in bed. And as much as it tarnishes your self worth and disregards the deep feelings you have, you didn’t mind the idea of being his just for one night, let alone a few hours.
You just wanted to be one of his girls.
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You slammed your locker closed and was met with Heeseung who had a sly grin on his face.
“So, should I take you to my place tonight? Or do you prefer if I take you on a date first?”
You haven’t talked to him in a week and there was no doubt that he heard about the rumors — the rumors that he had no idea were true.
“What are you talking about?” You said with a hint of defensiveness. You quickly softened your expression to make up for your attitude, you were just tired of everyone talking about you.
“Nothing,” Heeseung shook his head, “I’m just teasing you. I heard what people are saying.”
“None of it is true,” You lied.
He let out a low laugh, which caused your heart to drop in fear. “It wouldn’t be so bad if they were.”
You gently push his shoulder and Heeseung quickly gets rid of the smirk on his face. “Stop joking around, a lot of people are already on my ass about it. And everyone knows you have a different girl in your bed every week, it just makes me seem twice as desperate.” You playfully say, taking the situation less seriously as Heeseung is.
You watched as his gaze fell to the floor. Were you wrong to bring up his reputation?
Heeseung scratched his head before meeting your eyes, “It’s just rumors and they will go away soon,” he spoke matter-of-factly.
“I’ll see you tonight at the bonfire?”
You scoff and shake your head. “I probably won’t go anymore because of what people are saying.”
He notices hurt evident on your face, but he smiles anyway. “If the rumors aren’t true then don’t let it bother you,” he takes a step closer and you start to feel your heart pound. “I’ll try to find out who started it, but I better see you tonight.”
At that he leaves, and there it was, the feeling of butterflies floating around in your stomach. His assurance makes you feel better.
It was impossible to hide how widely you smiled and how heated your cheeks felt. He was just being a kind and caring friend, yet it was impossible not to fall for him.
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Bonfires were held by the school to celebrate the wins of the basketball team. You always had a great time hanging out with your friends, meeting new people, and supporting the team. Though, it also wasn’t fun to always watch the team captain stick his tongue down someone’s throat and completely disappearing before the night ended.
You decided to attend the one held tonight, although things would be different. There will be people who are constantly going to talk about you or maybe even say things directly to your face.
On the way to the bonfire, you thought about the last words Heeseung said to you at school before he left your locker. These stupid remarks that people are saying will eventually go away. But you still had no idea who would start these rumors.
You thought that you hid your feelings pretty well by not telling anyone, not even your closest friends. Maybe you were just too obvious.
“What if someone humiliates me tonight?” You walked down the beach with Hana, having a churned feeling in your gut.
“We’re not gonna let that happen,” Hana softly says while wrapping a blanket around you. “The boys will literally kick someone’s ass, you know how protective they are of you.”
You thank Hana for helping you ease up. You let go of your uneasy thoughts, Heeseung is expecting to see you which matters right now.
“You guys made it,” Jake got up from his seat to hug you and Hana. You look around and take in your surroundings. There were more people than you expected. Sunghoon and Jay were sitting down around the campfire along with a few students from school that you recognized.
Noticing that Heeseung wasn’t here, you press your lips in a small frown, already thinking about the worst of where he may be.
“Where’s Heeseung? Did he already leave with someone tonight?” You ask Jake in a playful manner, preparing your disappointment if he already had disappeared with someone else.
“No,” Jake laughed, “The basketball team snuck in booze so he’s helping with that. He’ll be back.”
You nod and try to hide the evident sigh of relief that was let out. “Forget that I asked,” you laughed before going around the campfire to greet Sunghoon and Jay.
“Are you okay?” Jay asked. “I’m fine, I’m just gonna hang for now and probably get a drink later,” you said, taking a seat in an empty space. You recognize the person sitting to the left of you, he was definitely a player of the basketball team.
“Hey, aren’t you suppose to help-“
“Have you fucked the captain yet?”
You heard the boy say as his lips turn into a sneer, and you started to chuckle nervously, the question catching you off-guard but it was expected right? You and your obsession with Heeseung was the talk of the town this week.
“Are you seriously asking me that?” You groaned out. Before the boy could answer, he was lightly smacked in the head. “Hey, leave her alone,” announced a familiar voice from behind you.
It was Heeseung with an agitated look on his face, and you couldn’t help but feel your lips slightly upturn into a grin. You watched as Heeseung took a seat, separating you and his teammate.
The action made your heart warm.
“When did you get here?” The irritated look on his face changed as he smiled fondly.
“I just got here with Hana.”
Heeseung nods before initiating small tension of silence. You notice him carefully bringing his stare to you. It was as if he using his eyes to trace every detail on your face and this freaked you out.
“Is there something on my face?” You questioned anxiously, hoping that you didn’t actually have anything on your face because it would be embarrassing, especially in front of your crush that you’re trying to impress.
Heeseung shook his head and chuckled. “No, I’m just glad you’re here,” he softly said.
A shit eating grin appeared from his response and you were flustered, your face possibly super red.
“Am I missing something?” You giggled, in disbelief of the words coming out of his mouth.
You were happy to know that he’s glad to see you, you actually wanted to scream, but you were also a bit confused on why he suddenly felt this way.
He was a fuckboy and this was probably his way of taking his girls to bed, not that you minded because this is what you want — a chance to be his for one night, but something felt off.
“All of a sudden you’re happy to be around me,” you lightly shrugged while taking a moment to get lost in his wide eyes, “What’s going on?”
His throat bobbled before he forced out a laugh, “Nothing’s going on. I just wanna make sure you’re doing okay after what people are saying.”
You didn’t know why, but you had a hard time believing him. You had a feeling that he wasn’t telling the truth. “Thank you-“
“We’re gonna play truth or drink.”
You drew your attention away from Heeseung when Hana was in front of you.
“I’ll pass,” you tell her.
Hana crosses her arms and pouts, “Just play for one round then you can go back to- whatever,” she turned her gaze to Heeseung who was awfully sitting closer than you remember. Hana notices the close proximity but doesn’t comment on it, instead, she’s waiting for you to answer.
“Why are we playing truth or drink?”
Hana grins, “The boys suggested it because they’re bored and the booze hasn’t kicked in yet.”
“Fine, but just one round,” you warn.
Hana happily takes a seat next to you with Heeseung still on your left. You watch your friends and a few familiar people around the campfire get comfortable before the game starts.
“Heeseung,” Sunghoon managed to get everyone’s attention, “Can I ask you first?”
You turn to face Heeseung who swallowed as he sat up to unintentionally fix his posture. “Sure,” he said without hesitation.
“Alright, let me think,” Sunghoon muttered.
“When was the last time you slept with someone?” There was a hint of tease in his voice.
Heeseung eyes got a bit wider while the question caused the others to ‘ooh’ like children. You, however, felt your stomach twist. You were curious, but also didn’t need a reminder that the guy you have feelings for is sleeping around with most of the girls at school but you.
You feel your brows furrow when Heeseung locked eyes with you for a moment before he finally spoke out his answer. “A month ago.”
You tried to give out a quiet laugh, but Heeseung heard and quizzically tilted his head at your reaction. “You’re lying,” you murmured.
Heeseung peered intently at you, he was taken aback. “It’s the truth,” he cleared his throat.
You almost feel bad, but you skeptically stared at him, “I have a hard time believing that.”
His expression turned into a more serious one, and you suddenly felt a sense of nervousness wash over you. Have you struck a nerve?
“I’m sorry,” you said as he went silent, “It’s just hard to believe that the biggest fuckboy at school would go a month without sex.”
You and the others who heard everything shared a look as Heeseung snickered. You turned to face him and this time he was closer. There was an uncomfortable closeness. He was intimidating, and you felt your breath hitch, regretting the words that came out of your mouth.
“How many times are you gonna mention me being a ‘fuckboy’ and the girls in my bed?” The change of tone in his voice was almost scary.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” You shake your head and try to apologize. You acted out of jealously and bitterness. “Heeseung-“
“I answered. Who’s turn is it?” he interjected while looking around to continue the game. Thankfully, no one made a single comment to what was heard. Jake proceeded with the game by asking the girl next to him a question.
You cursed under your breath knowing that it was wrong to not believe Heeseung’s answer and to bring up his reputation about his sex life. Not wanting things to be weird, you attempt to apologize again but was met with hard silence.
After a moment of listening to your friends play the game that you forgot was occurring, Heeseung finally looks back at you and there was something in his gaze you had never seen.
“Are you jealous because you want to fuck me?” He mutters lowly for only you to hear.
You freeze completely.
The intensity in his stare and the sensual tone in his voice made you feel something that you have never felt before when he spoke to you.
“T-that’s not true,” you stuttered, trying to ignore how hot your ears and cheeks felt.
You felt as if you were caught and the truth of yours was finally going to come out. You weren’t ready to tell Heeseung about your feelings, you weren’t even sure if you’re going to confess.
“I know,” Heeseung softly lets out with a quick change of expression. He grins, noticing your flushed face. “I’m sorry, it was just a joke. I just like seeing you flustered,” he admits.
You playfully push his shoulder just as you did when he was at your locker earlier today. You let out a huge sigh of content that he wasn’t super pissed about the comments you made. But why was he always playing around with you?
“Y/N, your turn.” Someone from your class blurted out which caused your head to shoot up.
“What’s your question?” You uttered.
Your classmate took a pause to think of a suitable question to ask. “Are you currently seeing or dating anyone?” They finally spoke.
“I am not,” you said easily.
“That’s good to know,” a voice said and you swore it came from the left of you, but you weren’t certain. Suddenly, you notice everyone looking at the boy next to Heeseung, the one who spoke to you earlier, with faces of terror.
“What did you say?” You asked the basketball player with a slight anxious tone to your voice.
Along with everyone around the campfire, Heeseung had his eyes glued to his teammate.
“I said that it’s good to know you’re single,” He said with an exasperated voice.
The comment made you feel a bit irked, but your focus was on everyone whispering and some even laughing before they quickly moved on.
“She’s lying,” you heard another sudden voice blurt out. This time, the voice sounded clear and close. “She’s taken by me,” Heeseung declared, not sparing you a glance.
“What?” You exclaimed, feeling your heart beat rapidly to the point that you didn’t notice Hana trying to speak to you. “Heeseung, stop,” you urged, knowing that he was playing around again.
Heeseung ignored you and instead, nodded his head, “We’ve been dating for awhile now.”
“Stop fucking around again, it’s not funny,” You pleaded while grabbing onto his arm to get his attention. He finally met your eye contact but kept going with his act by appearing to be upset.
“Baby, come on.” He whined out, practically begging with his big doe eyes.
You would usually feel the butterflies in your stomach, but this was different. You started to wonder why he treated everything as a joke. And it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t aware of your feelings, but he was really torturing you.
“Is that why you made up those rumors?”
Heeseung glanced over your head as your eyes widened at the sudden statement. You turned around and surprise crossed Jake’s face.
“You made things up to soft launch your relationship?” Jake continued, directly speaking to Heeseung.
You take a second to process Jake’s words and the look Heeseung gave him. All you can do is inquisitively raise your brow at Heeseung, while trying to get rid of the huge lump in your throat.
“What is he saying?” You softly asked, trying to ignore the heavily feeling in your chest. Heeseung opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it.
“You made up those rumors?” You raised your voice, trying to get an answer out of him, but there was nothing so you get up from your seat and stand before him.
“Do you know how many people at school have humiliated me?” You choked out as the realization hits you. You were betrayed by your own friend who happened to be the one guy that you have intense feelings for. “Why did you do it?”
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Heeseung stands and attempts to hold your arm but you quickly pull away.
You shook your head fervently, “That’s all you have to say? Why are you doing this to me?”
Lee Heeseung always gave you a sense of what heartbreak felt like. The way most girls had a taste of him and how he betrayed you.
Was it wrong to not believe that he was hurting you? Maybe you were obsessed with him.
“I’ll bring you home,” Hana reaches out for your hand and leads the way to the car, both of you leaving the bonfire after saying quick goodbyes to your confused friends. You felt humiliated enough and just wanted to go home.
You hear Heeseung practically chasing after you, “Wait,” he pleads, voice cracking lowly.
“Why did you do it?” You let out, blinking back incoming tears because you weren’t going to cry.
“You’re always fucking around with me and I didn’t do shit to you,” the pain in your voice was so evident that Heeseung shook his head, an array of emotions flurrying across his face.
“I didn’t mean to humiliate you,” he gently said.
As much as it hurts, you said nothing and got inside the car, leaving Heeseung feeling like complete shit. You repeatedly asked the same question, yet it was always dodged. To you, it wasn’t worth to fight for an answer anymore.
On the way home you confessed to Hana about your crush. She wasn’t all that surprised because yeah, you were just too obvious about it.
Now you were in bed, trying to forget all that is Lee Heeseung, but it was too damn hard. Your stupid crush as you call it, felt more than a simple crush. That invisible pull he had on you was too strong and it seemed impossible to move on.
You wonder if he were ever going to apologize, were you going to forgive him quickly?
The thought of moving on continued until you felt your eyes closed and drifted to sleep. But suddenly, you heard a few taps on the window which caused your eyes to snap open.
Surprised and super tense, you ran to your window and hesitatingly open your blinds to reveal Heeseung standing outside on your balcony. He had that same look on his face when didn’t spare him a chance to speak before getting inside the car. You open your window to let him in, praying that you weren't loud enough to wake your parents up who were asleep down the hall.
“You scared me,” you whispered, watching him enter your room through the window with ease. You quickly cross your arms, feeling a bit exposed in just silk pajama pants and a tank top.
“What are you doing here?” You panic as he scans your room. “My parents are sleeping and-“
“I’m sorry I made up those rumors,” he interrupts, face dropping in hurt as he stands before you. You narrowed your eyes at him, realizing how close he was standing. It was difficult to keep your heart steady, you didn’t even have time to process that Lee Heeseung was in your room.
“Why did you do it?” You ask the same question once more, hoping he answers this time.
“I did it because I wanted your attention,” his throat bobbles. “It’s actually really fucking stupid,” Heeseung sighs hard as you attentively listen, not fully understanding his words.
“I like you a lot and I thought that these rumors would bring us closer together,” he confesses. “It’s so stupid, I don’t know why I thought that.”
Your breath hitches as your arms drop. This new information is hitting you with surprise, causing you to take a tentative step forward, “You like me?” You couldn’t believe him.
Heeseung nods, “I’ve liked you for a while,” he huffs and glances away. “I started sleeping around to distract myself from you, and I tried getting rid of my feelings because I knew you wouldn’t like me back,” a laugh was let out.
Your mouth falls open, but you were speechless. The boy you’re practically in love with is reciprocating his feelings and he left you momentarily stunned as if a sudden jolt of electricity had coursed through your veins.
“Heeseung,” you shake your head, having a difficult time comprehending what you’ve heard.
“Wait,” he brings both hands to each of your bare shoulders. “It’s true that I’ve stopped seeing other girls. Whenever I was with them I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he pauses and grins for a moment, “So I had to stop.”
“You sound insane right now,” you let out without thought and he sighed with a nod, “And you made me look like a fool and an obsessive freak.”
He nodded again while removing his hands, “I know and I’m really sorry for doing that to you. And I’m sorry for what I pulled at the bonfire, it was wrong to lie like that in front of everyone.”
You crossed your arms, “The rumors you said-“
“What I said about you was fucked up.”
A frown fell upon him as you stare into his eyes. You knew he was genuine with his words — he wouldn’t have snuck into your room and risk getting you both caught if he wasn’t.
You slowly step forward, cupping his face with a hand and taking the chance to finally close the gap between you two, capturing his lips in a kiss. You heard him let out a gasp when he felt your lips on his. Heeseung easily melts into you while returning your kiss, and you can’t help but smile, finally kissing him after wanting him for so long.
You were the first one to pull away when air became necessary, “What you said was all true.”
He furrowed his brows, unable to find words to say anything. The redness of his ears makes you giggle, it was cute to see how shy he was.
“I like you too and I thought about being with you,” you interlock your hand with his, never leaving his gaze. “I thought about it a lot actually,” you remove the hair in your face, “Whenever I heard that you were with someone else.”
Heeseung tried to gather the courage to speak. According to his words, he’d never thought that you would feel the same way. To express what he was feeling inside, he brought his lips to yours for a quick kiss before pulling away.
“What fantasies do you have of me?”
The question causes you to hide your face in embarrassment, but Heeseung quickly removes your hands, regretting his pestering remark.
“I’m truly sorry, I’ll make sure people at school will stop talking about you. I did something very shitty and you don’t deserve it,” he admits.
“I forgive you,” you bury your face in Heeseung’s shoulder, “Only because I’m an obsessed freak.” You joke hastily causing him to chuckle fondly.
After a moment of being in each other’s embrace, you stare into his vulnerable eyes, allowing yourself to act on your feelings. “I want to be yours. I always have,” you beamed.
Heeseung understands quickly, because he also has always wanted to be yours. His eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his lips against yours softly.
He kissed you gently and slow, until he’s suddenly attacking your lips, and you feel both of his large hands cupping your small face. He licks your bottom lip for permission to shove his tongue inside your mouth and you accept, both of you fighting for dominance. It was like a reflex with the way you grabbed onto his hair.
You felt his hand slip under your tank top and he grabs your breast, kneading it gently. A loud exhale leaves your mouth, his touch igniting you.
Heeseung quickly broke away from you and nuzzled your temple before taking a deep breath then sighing, “We don’t have to go all the way.”
“Lee Heeseung turning down sex?” You tease him and he laughs before kissing you once more.
“I didn’t come here expecting something to happen. You’re special to me.”
His declaration makes your hurt flutter and creates an uncomfortable feeling between your legs. “I want you,” you tell him.
Heeseung freezes.
“Have you done it before?” He takes your hand.
You hesitate before shaking your head, “I’ve did other things before, but I’ve never gone all the way with someone.”
Your response makes him pause.
“Then it shouldn’t be with me,” he says before withdrawing his touch and taking a step back.
You grab his arm, refusing him to walk away, “Hey, I want it to be with you. I don’t care about how many other girls you’ve had, that’s not important,” you tell him. “Heeseung, please.”
It felt like a long time waiting for him to say something. Finally, he speaks up, “If we do this then I want you to tell me to stop when you want me to,” his voice is uncharacteristically quiet.
“Okay,” You nod your head accordingly.
“But we can’t be too loud, your parents are down the hall,” he amusingly smiles.
You nod your head one more time as he searches for any last signs of you wanting to back out. His hot breath fanned on your face as you pull him closer by his shirt.
He leans further down to press a trail of kisses against your jaw as you take a deep breath before tugging at the end of his shirt while his hand slides under yours, cupping your breast firmly this time. Heeseung removes his shirt, revealing his exposed chest as you take off yours.
You watch him take a step back to admire you, which leaves your face flushed with heat.
“You’re perfect,” he says, and all you could do is smile because you notice the tent in his pants.
Heeseung wraps his arms around your waist and shoves his tongue back inside your mouth. You rub your thighs together feeling yourself getting soaked, you wanted to feel him already.
When you wrap your arms around his shoulders, you can’t help the way your body reacts to him as you attempt to rub yourself against him.
Heeseung notices this and instead of letting you continue, he slides a hand inside your pants and between your legs to spread your slick while also pressing the heel of his palm on your clit.
“That feels good,” you groan out, still attempting to press against him. When you succeed, a small grunt leaves his lips. “Does it?” He says coyly while curling his long fingers inside you.
You don’t answer him and it’s because he’s hitting your sweet spot, making you unable to speak. He fastens his pace and you feel your orgasm approaching, “H-Heeseung, I’m so close,”
He relentlessly rubs circles around your clit, reveling in the pretty noises coming out of your mouth. You feel your thighs shaking as you continue grinding against him, and it was becoming too much until you let out your release, holding onto his biceps to steady yourself.
After retracting his fingers and wiping them clean on his pants, Heeseung easily picks you up from off the ground and props you on your bed. He grabs the band of your pants to pull them down before quickly slipping off your panties. You impatiently lay there, waiting for him to undress.
He starts to strip off his pants by unbuttoning the buttons, his boxers followed by it. The sight of his cock leaking with precum caused your eyes to widen. He was pretty, prettier from what you’ve seen before, and you can’t help but feel nervous as to how he was going to fit inside you.
But you trust him and give him a nod to continue because you want this so bad. Heeseung started to stroke himself, and with the copious amount of precum, he was able to glide up and down with ease. The view of Lee Heeseung looking gorgeous on your bed while naked leaves you breathless.
“Shit,” he lets out a panic grunt.
You sit up and notice the worried look on his face, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry baby, I-I don’t have a condom,” he mutters, and by the tone in his voice, you could tell that he was freaking out. “I have one in the car, I could run to get it really quick.”
You think about it for a second before shaking your head. Although a condom would be the safest choice, you don’t want him to get dressed just to undress again. Your parents were still in the house, and you were afraid that he’d get caught sneaking back inside.
You also wanted him now, you weren’t sure if you could wait much longer. “You can just pull out,” you suggest and he immediately refuses.
“It’s okay, I trust you.”
“Are you sure? I don’t have a problem getting it.”
You reach for his hand and give it a tight squeeze before nodding, “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Unless you aren’t?” You continue.
Heeseung shakes his head, “No, I’m sure. I want you too, very badly, but I want you to feel safe.”
You lay back down while pulling Heeseung until he’s hovered over you. “I trust you, Hee. It’s fine.”
Heeseung merely tilts his head and lets his smile deepen as he removes the hair in your face to see you clearly. He kisses the side of your mouth then your lips before taking his throbbing length to slowly slide inside you.
With his precum and your dripping core, he is able to slide in easily, but he deliberately takes a slow amount of time, not wanting to hurt you. Your hands desperately grabbed at his bare shoulders, digging your nails in as he slides in deeper. You feel full when he’s only halfway in, and as much as you wanted to him to bottom you out and fuck you relentlessly, it did hurt a bit.
“I’m sorry,” he halts and completely slips out, feeling you slightly shift and noticing the uncomfortable look on your face.
“No,” you grab him by the arm, “Don’t stop.”
Heeseung obliges, lining his cock up with your entrance and gently easing the tip inside. He inched inside deeper and your walls squeezed when inviting him in. Heeseung fully inserted himself into you, causing you to cling onto him and let out a loud whine. He allowed you to adjust as he stretched you out and the feeling felt better than just fingers, you were already addicted.
He grabbed your thighs and grinded himself upwards, placing his dick so deep inside you. Heeseung grit his teeth attempting to hold back his sounds before planting a weak kiss on your lips, never feeling like this with anyone else.
“Does it feel good?” He whimpers, gradually increasing his pace when thrusting inside you.
All he got as a response was moan and he chuckled, finding it cute. You were enthralled, feeling his movements become faster, more ragged and desperate. “It feels- so good.”
Heeseung was watching you with lustful eyes as you took his cock in ecstasy. Your lips met, exchanging warm breaths and loud moans into each other’s mouths as it echoed inside your room. “You feel good, perfectly made for me.”
“I’m glad it’s with you,” You accidentally let out, trying to contain your moan. After hearing your words, he groaned and firmed your hips closer. You feel him increasing his pace, hitting your spot as he slid in and out of you, almost tipping you over the edge. “Heeseung-“ You began.
He lets out a soft grunt before slyly sneaking a hand down to graze your clit. You squeeze your eyes shut and clench hard, his words and warm touch helping you to approach your release.
“Hee, I’m close,” you cry out. He continues thrusting sensually, causing loud sounds to leave both of your mouths at the sensation.
Simultaneously, you both cover each other’s mouths restricting the loud noises so that you wouldn’t wake your parents up. And you release just like that, moaning into Heeseung’s hand.
“Fuck,” he exhaled, “You’re perfect.”
You were dizzy and disoriented, barely making out the words that left his lips as he slows down his rhythm, still fast enough to chase his own release. “I’m gonna cum,” he whined, his fingers gripping your hips almost painfully.
His touch felt amazing and you were vaguely aware of Heeseung pulling out just in time. You groaned, watching as he gasped himself in his fist, pumping himself over your stomach as he painted you with his seed.
His weight gently pushed you flat against the mattress, his puddle of cum sticking on the both of you as you both shook from the intensity of your orgasms. Heeseung pressed small kisses to your shoulders before getting up from your bed and picking up his shirt to clean you.
“Are you okay?” Heeseung asked before rolling to lay next to you. “Does it hurt?”
You shook your head, “It was perfect,” you then plant a small kiss on his lips while removing a piece of his hair that stuck to his forehead.
“You were very sweet with me.”
“I told you that you’re special to me,” he replies, pressing his lips against your forehead.
The corners of your mouth upturned into a huge smile, the butterflies in your stomach were floating around as if they didn’t leave. But in a matter of a quick second, your body language changes into a more stern and stiff manner.
“What’s wrong?” His voice trembled in concern.
A sudden feeling of insecurity hit. Heeseung knew how to make you feel good, it wasn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before and a reason might be because he is experienced, but you wonder if you were able to satisfy him — to make him feel good.
“You were so perfect, I don’t know if you could say the same,” you drop your head in defeat. “I’m sorry if it didn’t feel good to you-“
“Baby, stop talking,” he urges.
“You said that you don’t care about how many girls I’ve been with,” he reiterates. “I don’t care if you’re experienced or not, it was perfect because it was with you. I want to be with you.”
You could feel your voice caught in your throat. The look in his eyes as he declared his words made your heart pound hard in your chest. It feels unreal to finally win over your crush of how many long tumultuous years. After everything, you wonder how lucky you got with him.
And Heeseung was thinking the same thing. He felt lucky to be with you after all of his fuck ups, he was obsessed with you too.
“You’re with me,” you tell him.
“Okay then,” he looks satisfied, “You’re my girl.”
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© fairyofhee 2023.
note — thank you for reading! please leave any thoughts or comments, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated!
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leaderwonim · 2 months
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✴︎ THE MONSTER’s GONE, HE’S ON THE RUN, AND YOUR BOYFRIEND’s HERE.
pairing. lee heeseung x fem!reader
genre. established relationship, zombie apocalypse au, ANGST, fluff then and there, high sch!au (they’re seniors), mentions of dying and being bitten
synopsis. when it comes down to it, will lee heeseung protect you like he had promised in the beginning of your relationship?
author’s note. This one is a long one and I lwk felt my heart being ripped apart as I finished the ending 🙁 the scene where he sings to her is based off of the scene from “Beautiful Boy” where Nick’s father sings to him. I kind of envisioned Y/n and Heeseung as Cheongsan and On-jo so do whatever you want with this information!
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Lee Heeseung was the perfect boyfriend. He was athletic, tall, and most importantly of all, loving. He wasn’t afraid to show you how much he cared about your relationship.
Being the captain of the hockey team came with a lot of perks. For one, no one was able to yell at him for always giving oogly eyes at you during practice, and no one dared say a word when Heeseung would stop in the middle of his laps to talk to you.
“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” Ha Kyungmi, the girlfriend of your cousin and Heeseung’s friend, Sunghoon, perched herself right next to you in the stands.
“Heeseung gave me his jersey.”
Kyungmi smirks, letting her hands feel the material of the jersey you have on. “You lucky bitch!” She says, making you giggle. “Heeseung’s never lent someone his jersey before, that’s how you know he’s serious.”
“That’s good to know,” your eyes look back into the ice, seeing your boyfriend and Sunghoon competing to see who was the fastest.
“You hear that breakout that’s been happening in Busan?” Kyungmi digs in her sweater pockets, pulling out her phone. “It’s reaching Seoul. My mom told me about it yesterday.”
You read over the article that Kyungmi shows you on her phone, something about a deadly outbreak that’s been contaminating the people of Korea. It had started in Busan, and it was making its way to Seoul now.
“Hey!” The voice of your boyfriend makes you snap out of your daze. Heeseung makes his way towards you along with Sunghoon, pulling off their skates as they tossed it against the wall.
“You look pretty,” Heeseung leans in to give your cheek a sloppy kiss, one that has Sunghoon pretending to gag at. “What are you gagging at Hoon? As if that’s not you and your girlfriend all the time.”
Sunghoon raises his hand in mock surrender, interlocking his hand with Kyungmi. “It’s weird seeing you kiss my cousin dude!” He says. “We’re gonna go to the cafeteria if you guys want to meet us there later.”
You glance at your phone, realizing there was only 15 minutes of lunch left.
“Sure, we’ll meet you there man.” Heeseung gives Sunghoon a pat on the back before intertwining his hand with yours, pulling you closer to him despite already being in close proximity.”
“Were you cold?” He asks, concerned bambi eyes making you bite your lip.
“No I wasn’t Seungie.” You lean your head on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing your fingers as the two of you stayed in silence for a bit. “We should probably meet with Sunghoon and Kyungmi before lunch ends.”
“Yeah.” The two of you stand up, making your way out of the ice rink. Thankfully for your growling stomach, your school’s cafeteria was only a few meters away.
“There they are!” Kyungmi waves the two of you over, “I told you buying 2 extra sandwiches was a good idea!”
“Okay okay, sorry baby.” Sunghoon says. “Took you guys forever.”
“It was 5 minutes Hoon,” Heeseung rolls his eyes, thanking Kyungmi as she passed you two your sandwiches. “I really don’t want to go to Ms. Jung’s class. She’ll be the death of me.”
Suddenly, there’s a scream, one that is so horrid that it makes your boyfriend drop the glass cup of orange juice he was holding.
“What’s happening?!” Heeseung says, standing up immediately. He wraps his arm around your waist, eyes widening when he sees students panicking all around.
“Quick, Mr. Jeon’s class is nearby!” Sunghoon pulls the three of you towards a classroom. Inside was about 10 other students, whom of which looked like they were on high alert.
“Yah,” one of the guys said, suddenly standing up. You recognize him as Yoo Hanbin, one of your classmates from biology during your tenth year. “Are you guys bitten? Show us your neck and arms.”
“Bitten?” Heeseung scoffs, pulling you closer to him.
“They don’t know what’s happening Hanbin.” One of his friends says calmly. “They’re probably just scared like us. Close the door, hurry.”
Hanbin snarls, but he obliges. He ushers the four of you in, closing the door in a rush. He then places the teacher’s large wooden desk against it with the help of the other students.
“What’s going on?” Kyungmi asks, flinching when a sudden bang comes from the door.
“Quick! Move more desks!” Despite not knowing what the hell was happening, you helped Hanbin and the others place all the desks against Mr. Jeon’s room.
“There’s an apocalypse,” Hanbin’s friend answers after you all catch your breath. “Haruto.” He introduces himself after.
“Apocalypse?” Heeseung’s grip on your hand is suddenly tighter. “What? You mean like a zombie apocalypse Haruto?”
“I didn’t believe it either,” Hanbin slides his body down against the wall tiredly, lifting up his sleeves to show you his arm. “At first.”
It was bloody and looked like it hurt badly.
“I was in the piano room when it happened. Seolhee’s cries were all I could hear before I heard them. Their growls.” Hanbin shakes his head, looking down at the ground. “I tried saving her—but I couldn’t. One of them tried to bite me before I slashed them across the face with the piano chair. I ran so fast that I fell on the way to Mr. Jeon’s room, that’s where the cut came from.”
You can’t help but send the poor boy a look of pity, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden information.
“Is this about the outbreak?” Kyungmi suddenly speaks up. “The one we read about, remember Y/N? Is it the one from Busan causing all of this?”
Haruto solemnly nods, and that’s enough for you to let out a small cry.
Heeseung wraps his arms around you, letting you bury your head into his chest. “Sh, it’s alright.”
But it wasn’t.
You and Heeseung huddle up together against one of the corners of the room alongside Kyungmi and Sunghoon, trying to generate as much heat as possible.
With the whole city in ruins by now, you knew electricity would be gone soon, you just hoped it would be gone in the morning instead of night.
“We’re almost out of water.” Haruto says, getting up suddenly. One of the girls, who you recognize as Ryujin gets up with him.
If you weren’t stuck in a zombie apocalypse, you would’ve gushed over how much they complimented one another. Ryujin was the star tennis player who looked like she hated everybody, but the way she looks at Haruto showed that she more than tolerated him.
“You seriously aren’t thinking..?” Ryujin pulls Haruto back by his arm. “You can’t go by yourself to get water!”
“I’ll go with him.”
For all the years you’ve known Sunghoon, he’s never been as brave as he was now. You could tell Kyungmi was scared out of her mind, grabbing onto his hand as her lips quivered.
“It’s too dangerous! We’ll live without water for now!”
“Don’t be ridiculous baby,” Sunghoon gives her a comforting glance. “Me and Haruto will go, we’ll come back soon.”
“If he’s going, I’m going too.” The emotions Ha Kyungmi felt earlier now transferred to you. You shake your head, not letting Lee Heeseung’s hand fall from yours. “Y/N, please. Sunghoon’s my best friend, I have to.”
But I’m your girlfriend, you wanted to say.
As much as it hurt you, you knew you had to let Heeseung go. The risks were high, but you knew the rest of your classmates were thirsty to death and needed water as soon as possible. You couldn’t be selfish and beg your boyfriend to stay in front of all of them.
“Be safe.” You say, standing up to cup Heeseung’s face. “Please. Protect yourself first.”
He nods, wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes.
“Promise me, Heeseung.” You whisper.
“I promise.”
You let go of Heeseung reluctantly, watching as him, Sunghoon, and Haruto all slowly push aside the desks, opening the door as slowly as possible.
The growls were less prominent than they were a few hours earlier. You didn’t even want to look through the window to see how many zombies were downstairs at your school’s entrance.
As soon as they’re gone, a boy comes and sits himself right next to Kyungmi and you, giving a small smile.
“You okay Kyung?”
You find it weird how close he’s being with Kyungmi, and even weirder that he waited till Sunghoon had left.
“I’m fine Eunwoo,” Kyungmi replies, slouching against the wall. “Are you okay?”
You turn your head back around, not wanting to eavesdrop on your friend. You prayed and prayed that Heeseung would be kept safe when he was going to get water. You knew where the boys were going—Mrs Ahn’s room. She was the only teacher who kept giant packs of water bottles in her class for students who were thirsty. You hoped Mrs. Ahn was still alive.
“They’re going to Mrs. Ahn, aren’t they?” Ryujin asks, sitting herself next to you.
“They are.” You turn to make eye contact with her, surprised to see a purple bruise near her eye. “What happened to you?”
“Zombies.” She grins, although she knows it’s no time for jokes. “I only made a fuss earlier because Haruto was the one who saved me. Despite being quiet, he really knows how to fight off zombies.”
“Hey,” you get closer to her, almost whispering now. “What do you know about Eunwoo over there?”
Ryujin raises her eyebrows, placing her sight on Eunwoo who was talking to Kyungmi up close. “Has had a crush on Ha Kyungmi for over a year now. I see them sometimes.”
Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting such a response. Before you could say anything back, Heeseung and Haruto quickly rush into the room, slamming the desks back onto the door.
“Seungie?” You and Ryujin rush over to help them. They had 2 packs of waters in their hands, letting it drop on the ground along with their knees as they tried to catch their breath.
“I—I—” Heeseung seems choked up, his eyes teary and red. “I tried to help him—I really did.”
Your jaw practically drops knowing full well what Heeseung was implying. Park Sunghoon was nowhere to be found, not behind him, not behind Haruto.
“They came so quickly, we panicked and we just ran and I—” Haruto is unable to finish his sentence when you let out a scream, your body scumming to the floor.
“My cousin’s dead?” You sob out, clutching onto Heeseung’s bloody blazer when he comes down to hug you.
“I can’t believe it,” Kyungmi’s mouth goes dry and she turns over to hug Eunwoo, who rubs her back comfortingly.
You’re too distraught to even question why she was in another guy’s arms right after your cousin, her own boyfriend, just died.
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung repeats over and over again, letting you cry into his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault,” you sniffle. “Tell me he died a quick death. Tell me it wasn’t painful for him Hee.”
“He fell out the window,” Heeseung says, a few tears escape his eyes. “They backed us up into a wall and Sunghoon fell out an open window. We heard a loud slam and when we looked, he was already dead.”
You sob even louder, making Heeseung’s hold on you tighten.
When you finally catch your breath and pull away, you notice how Heeseung has scratches all over his face.
“Oh Seung,” you say, tracing your fingers over them. “It must really hurt.”
“It feels fine when I’m with you.”
The both of you lean against the cushion that’s propped against the bookshelf in Mr. Jeon’s room, your head laying against Heeseung’s shoulder as you both hold each other’s hands tightly. You felt like Heeseung would disappear if your grip loosened.
“Your lip,” Heeseung suddenly says, letting his index finger touch your lips, which were chapped and bleeding.
“It’s fine,” you brush him off, but he shakes his head, reaching into his pocket for something.
“Here, I have your chapstick.” He pulls out your strawberry flavored chapstick, the one that you always bought before the apocalypse had happened.
“Where’d you get this?” You breathe out.
“I always keep a spare one in my pockets because I know you,” Heeseung smiles down at his lap. “I knew it would come in handy.”
Your eyes softened at his words, one hand coming to hold his chin as you lean in to give him a long kiss.
“Thank you Seungie,” you say as you pulled away. “For everything.”
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You suddenly jolt up from your sleep, face covered in cold sweat.
“Hey, hey, everything’s okay.” Heeseung whispers to you.
You take in your surroundings, making out Hanbin and Haruto’s figures guarding the doors and the rest of the students in the class asleep.
You had your head on Heeseung’s lap, your body sprawled along the cold tiled floor of Mr. Jeon’s class.
“How long have I been out?” You ask groggily, trying to squint at the dark clock on the wall.
“Just two hours.” Heeseung sighs. “The growling stopped for a bit. It’s eleven now. You should sleep more.”
You shake your head, disagreeing. “No Seung, you should sleep. I could watch over for a bit with Hanbin and Haruto.”
Heeseung bites his lip, almost as if he was really debating whether or not he should be sleeping right now.
“Seung, please. You need your energy.”
Heeseung agrees hesitantly, letting you switch places so now his head was on your lap.
“Goodnight Hee.” You say, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.
He smiles back at you, closing his eyes as he let sleep consume him.
Your eyes search around the room, focusing on Kyungmi and Eunwoo sleeping on one another.
Before you were too distraught to care about them two, but now that everything was calm, you really took in the situation.
Ryujin’s words rang in your ear like a mantra. Eunwoo liked Kyungmi for over a year now.
Does that mean.. ?
No, it couldn’t. You knew Ha Kyungmi. She was a sweet girl to you for the most part, she wouldn’t do that to your cousin.
Would she?
“They’re here.” You hear Hanbin whispering. His voice was filled with dread and fear, and your worst suspicions were true.
The zombies had reached your classroom.
“EVERYBODY! UP!” Haruto yells, clumsily turning on the small light that was still working in the room. “WE HAVE TO MOVE! QUICK!”
Heeseung wakes up with a grunt, his arms automatically reaching for your waist as if it was a natural reflex.
“They’re here?” He asks, squinting a bit at the bright light.
“Yes, let’s wake the others.”
You two start tapping your classmates awake.
“There’s a window we can climb out of.” Hanbin points at the window that was half covered by the cushion you and Heeseung had laid on earlier. “It’s not a big drop so we’ll survive it. It’s our only escape.”
Your classmates all start talking at once, some unsure of Hanbin’s plan.
“We don’t have much time!” Ryujin exclaims. “Quick! Climb out!”
A few of your classmates help each other get out of the window carefully, cheering silently when it works successfully.
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold them off.” Haruto says, the desks being pushed out by the bangs of the zombies on the door.
“Kyungmi! Let’s go!” Eunwoo grabs the girl’s hand, pulling her towards the window.
“Eunwoo—but—Y/N?!” She turns to face you, who was currently helping the boys hold the door against the zombies. “Y/N!”
“Just go Kyungmi!” You yell, watching as Eunwoo helps her get out first.
“We’re going to have to let go and make a swift run for it,” Hanbin says to the three of you. “A broken arm or leg will be better than dying at the hands of these creatures.”
Haruto closes his eyes, nodding slowly at his friend’s words. “On a count of three.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three!”
The four of you let go, the zombies automatically piling into the room as soon as you do.
Haruto and Hanbin are quick, climbing out and jumping onto the ground in a swift second.
“Cmon Heeseung! Y/N!”
Heeseung climbs out first, foot barely making it out the window before one of the zombies have got you.
“Y/N!” He screams, hands gripping onto the window as he tries to reach for you.
“Heeseung! It’s not worth it!” Kyungmi shouts, “they’ve already got her, she’s gonna die anyway, it’s not worth it.”
Heeseung’s vision goes red at this. “I don’t fucking care Kyungmi! Unlike you, I actually love my girlfriend to death and would do anything for her!”
His words have her cowering in embarrassment, Eunwoo wrapping a protective arm around her.
“Yah you fucker!” Eunwoo yells. “You want to be with your girlfriend so badly? Then die!”
He and Kyungmi run off to find shelter, the only two who were left were Hanbin and Haruto.
They were silently begging Heeseung to drop it with their eyes, telling them that it wasn’t worth it.
“Cmon Heeseung man,” Haruto says croakily. “You’ll die.”
“Then I’ll die with her.” Heeseung whispers. He watches as one of the zombies bite you, making you scream out in pain.
The zombies all make their way to another classroom when they realize you’re the only one, and since you’ve already been bitten, you were no longer desirable to them.
Despite knowing he would most likely die if he did it, Heeseung climbs back into the room, pulling you into his arms as he did many times before.
“Hey, hey.” He chokes up as he pulls you closer. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s—okay.” You reassure him, eyes slowly turning red as your twitching hands come up to touch his jaw. “Will you sing to me Heeseung?”
You had always joked before that Heeseung would become a famous singer in the future, his beautiful voice entrancing you whenever he’d sing or hum a song.
“Of course.” He gulps, eyes becoming blurry from the tears as each second pasts.
“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your boyfriend’s here.” Heeseung’s lips tremble, unable to hold in his emotions any longer. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.”
He holds you in his arms despite your twitching body, knowing any second you would turn into one of them. He watches as the light from your eyes disappear, and your skin turns green and veiny.
Lee Heeseung doesn’t cry a lot. He believed that crying wasn’t going to fix anything.
But as he watched the Y/N he loved disappear from his arms despite being physically there, he sobs and sobs. Despite knowing it won’t do anything, he pulls your body onto his, hands on the back of your head as he begs the world to silently bring you back.
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luviestarz · 2 months
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lee heeseung fic recs!
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♥︎ "mind saying that again?" (heeseung x reader) - @heeliopheelia
♥︎ — RACING, BEATING. - @wonlovie (You didn’t mean to show up to one of the most important meetings of your year completely hungover. No, in reality you would have preferred being sober when you met the man your father was marrying you off to. But how could you resist those dark eyes and plump lips that tempted you on your final night of freedom?)
♥︎ VERBOTEN - LEE HEESEUNG [complete] - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.)
♥︎ last time - @hees-mine (After giving into temptation, there was no end. The guilt was slowly started to fade, and you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of lust for your best friend's father.)
♥︎ boring, draining, tedious, company party- lee heeseung - @boydepartment
♥︎ 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 — SURPRISE 이희승 - @karinasbaby (jaeyun pitched you one of his “genius” plans to celebrate heeseung’s birthday— but how will heeseung take it?)
♥︎ rude | lhs - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)
♥︎ EX-BOYFRIEND TEXTS W/ HEESEUNG - @fakeuwus
♥︎ WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS - @jaylver (who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.)
♥︎ TASTE ⎯⎯ l. heeseung - @goldenhypen
♥︎ BLOODBAG - @myonos (IN WHICH you are a princess betrothed to the vampire prince of the most feared kingdom in the world.)
♥︎ hee seeing you wear another members hoodie - @delcakoo
♥︎ chapstick challenge - @jaeyunverse (the chapstick challenge is just an excuse for you to get heeseung to kiss you. thankfully, he’s more than happy to oblige.)
♥︎ HIS CHEERLEADER - @nishions (You and Heeseung are friends with benefits. But, why did you have such an effect on him?)
♥︎ 𐙚 NECESSARY LOVE - LHS - @lilacnini (you realized you were in love with heeseung the whole time)
♥︎ golden boy - @jayflrt (in the summer between high school and college, lee heeseung is determined to make you fall in love with the city of los angeles after your vacation plans in the bahamas fall through. somewhere between the lines, though, you end up falling for your childhood best friend.)
♥︎ won't let you go (this time) - @zreamy (back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :()
♥︎ hopeless ☆ heeseung lee - @star-sim (absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye.)
♥︎🔖 、FOUND HOME - @kyrjnie
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star-sim · 3 months
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my love (mine all mine) ☆ jake sim
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☆ non-idol! jake x fem! reader ☆ summary: after years of abuse, jake is afraid of love, so why do you have to be so warm? ☆ genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, implied adult! au, very domestic ☆ warning(s)? domestic violence and abuse, poor parenting, 1 mention of self harm, implied mention of suicide, kinda indulgent sorry ☆ word count: 1.5k
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The earliest memory that Jake had was the sound of porcelain plates crashing against the tiled kitchen floor, and the wails of his mother. 
For a period of time, it was all that he could remember: going home to a cold house, hand-in-hand with his older brother, his heart pounding in his chest as his young mind wondered if Dad was going to hurt Mom again, or if they'd go back to loving each other tonight. 
He couldn't have been any older than nine when he experienced the wrath of his father first-hand, when he came to school in May wearing a long-sleeve shirt and long pants as if the early-summer weather wasn't rising, the scent of citrus filling the air. Sure, the bruises, and later scars (because of course, his father just had to try to stab him with a broken beer bottle), hurt, but nothing would compare to the silence that rang through the house after a screaming match. It would pierce his ears every single time, so loud that it was deafening, yet so silent that Jake could hear every single breath that his mother took as she pulled at her hair, driving blades into her skin, ignoring the quiet rumble of her child's stomach. 
He'd gone to bed hungry many times. Too many times.
But, perhaps the worst memory that Jake had was the morning after his seventeenth birthday. Jake spent his birthday outside the house, not wanting to be suffocated by the taste of salty tears and domestic violence in the air. He came back late, much later than he should have. 
Thank god, neither of his parents were home, and his brother was already off to college by then. When they weren't screaming at each other, physically assaulting their son, or neglecting him, his parents were either off to work, or hanging out with their sketchy friends, drinking all of their responsibilities (like their children) away like nothing else mattered.
Or so he thought.
Because the next thing he knew, his mother was shrieking at him, hitting him with the same hands that should have been cradling his face. And when his bastard of a father heard the commotion, it was almost like he was excited, excited to have an excuse to put his son in a chokehold. It seemed like the only time that his parents wanted to agree with each other was when they could hurt him.
As his lungs closed in on him, his choked breaths gasping for air while Jake tried to pry his father's hands off his neck, he felt light-headed, a fuzzy feeling filling his head until his body lost all its strength.
Jake swore that he would have died that night, if it weren't for the barks of the family dog.
If his perception of family, love, and marriage wasn't already warped, that early morning of his seventeenth birthday did.
He vowed to himself then and there, that he would never get married, nor would he ever start a family. 
Yet, as you held him in your arms, enveloping him with warmth as hot tears streamed down his face, Jake could feel all his resolve slipping away.
Indeed, his vow held up. It held up all throughout college and for years into his adulthood. He became known as the "single friend," the friend that was always the designated driver because he'd rather die than consume a drop of alcohol.
But then you pranced your way into his life.
You, with your beautiful face. You, with the brightest smile that he'd ever seen. You, with the softest, most gentle touch.
When you wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing tender kisses against the nape of his neck as you giggled a soft,"I love you," Jake's heart pummeled to his stomach.
It was suffocating.
His hands were clammy, so moist with sweat that he had to wipe his palms on his jeans. His chest would pound, loud enough for it to be the only sound filling his ears. His stomach twisted, a hot coil curling in his abdomen. It was nauseating.
But the worst was what he felt in his throat.
Something wicked— Something overwhelming and painful— clambered up his throat. It wrapped itself around his neck, pulling tight like the noose his mother threatened to put around her own neck. When it crawled up to his mouth, Jake nearly threw it up. He tried to swallow it down, but he gagged.
And it was already too late.
He'd already muttered the words, "I love you, too" back.
Love was terrifying. If he loved, what would happen? Would he get married, and enter a life of pure misery? 
And what if he had kids?
When Jake was angry and he looked in the mirror, he hated the way that all he saw was his father's eyes staring back at him. His mother always told him that he looked like his father anyway. 
Jake knew he wouldn't. He would never lay a finger on another person, let alone his own kin. But as days and years passed, his voice only sounded more and more like his own father's. He couldn't help the way his expressions scarily resembled his mother's, the same ones that he'd seen contort into fear, wrath, and indifference.
But here he was.
In the dark, his face was buried in your shoulder, the same ones that he'd kissed. You patted his back as he let out sobs, wet and salty tears wetting your skin.
It was another night, where you and him would hang out and flirt in your apartment, maybe do a little kissing. 
Maybe he shouldn't have laid down with you. Maybe he shouldn't have let you put your fingers in his hair, stroking it gently as he laid on your chest. Maybe he shouldn't have listened to your every word as you traced his face, muttering to him everything about him that you loved about him. He shouldn't have, he really shouldn't have. Especially when you ended it all with a kiss to his eyelids, whispering into his ear, "I can't wait to marry you one day."
Jake always did his best to contain his emotions. After all, he'd learn to do it so well because of his home life. No one had to know about his struggles.
Yet he couldn't help the wave of emotions that crashed down on his shoulders. One moment, he was smiling in your kiss, the next his face was wet.
It didn't help when you were so warm to him. You cradled his face, kissing his tears away, hands holding him like he was a piece of glass. 
"I'm scared," was all he could say.
Because that was all he felt in that moment.
Fear.
Fear, because he couldn't figure out why he was crying. 
Fear, because now all his emotions were spilling out. 
Fear, because you said you wanted to marry him.
Fear, because he, too, wanted to marry you.
You didn't let him go that night.
You stayed there with him, letting him cry into your shoulder until the sun rose. You didn't know why exactly, but the way he gripped your waist like you'd leave him was enough to tell you.
"I know, I know," you'd whispered into his ear. "I know, Baby."
All he did in response was pull you closer, and chant your name like it was a prayer, like you were his god and he was your worshiper.
Jake's favorite memory was the sound of wailing.
Not the wailing of his mother, not the wailing of his older brother, but the wailing of the child in your arms.
He could only watch with misty eyes as the small newborn clung to your chest, loud crying filling the hospital room. 
"Jakey," you said weakly, flashing him a smile. "Look what we made."
We.
That's right. 
This child was his and yours. As he held the baby, being careful not to do anything stupid, Jake stared into its crying eyes (as if his eyes weren't crying, too). 
When Jake looked at his child, he saw his eyes. He saw the same eyes that his own father gave him. He wasn't filled with fear, or anger, or guilt— he felt love. 
This child didn't have his father's angry eyes, the eyes that Jake spent his entire life believing he inherited.
No, this child had Jake's eyes, Jake's eyes that were filled with love.
You giggled softly as you watched your husband's intent and utterly fascinated gaze at your child. He snapped his head up at you.
"I love you," he blurted. He didn't say it a lot. It felt like poison on his tongue when he did, something unnatural and not meant for him. But in that moment, it felt like his entire being was made to say it. "God, I love you so much."
Yes, Jake would run. 
He'd run, and run, and run, from love. 
He'd run as far as he could, until his legs gave out.
He'd run for eternity, because he knew that one day, he'd walk to you.
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won4ver · 4 months
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✈︎ greedy
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heeseung was greedy. he was addicted to the feeling of you, he needed you.
pairing : idol!exbf!heeseung x idol!fem!reader
warnings + genre : suggestive. heeseungs lowkey a freak but that’s alright. jealousy. he’s angry. mentions of killing someone in a fit of rage. swearing. reader is a member of lesserafim. heeseung fights someone. blood from a cut. heeseung whimpers. doesn’t say but they’re at an award show after party, hence why they’re both there.
wc : 1.8k
a/n : i’m back guys 😝 after not posting for like two months or something, i’ve been so busy but now that the holidays have passed my schedule has been readjusting. anyways check out my upcoming niki smau [ PIKA PIKA ] on my other acc @sincerelyrki
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Heeseung was greedy.
Shivers ran down his body as his head tilted back, eyes screwing up as if he were in pain. But he was in pain, being without you was the worst feeling in the world. He could never get enough of you, his memories from your shared nights doing nothing more than making this more unbearable for him. He could never get enough of you.
All he could think about was your body against his, hands slithering up his body, touching him everywhere. His skin burned as the memories came in, enflaming everywhere you’ve ever touched.
He could feel his jaw ticking as his fists clenched, he needed you to finish talking to finish talking with those fucking perverted men whose eyes never left your body and come back to him so that he could show you how much better he was. How much better he could make you feel, no one could ever compare to how good he can make you feel.
His eyes opened in a blaze as his nails broke the skin of his palms, trickles of blood dripping down his calloused fingers. His eyes burned holes into the man who thought he had the right to put his arm around your waist, Heeseung simply scoffed at the thought.
How dare that disgusting man think he could touch his girl, he was going to kill him. He would make the man get on his knees for you, make him thank you for allowing him to be in your presence. One thank you for each passing second, and right now he’s over four hundred and eight seconds.
You could feel the heavy gaze of the brooding man sitting on the other side of the room, eyes narrowed at the arm of the random man around you.
You knew who he was, and it felt like the perfect time to make him feel the way you felt the night he left you. you were going to destroy him, and he was going to let you. he’d let you do anything to him as long as it was happening to him, you weren’t allowed to even think of other men.
Without turning to look behind you your body turned towards the man who you now recognized as your high school biology partner, Park Hanbin. As if feeling your gaze the slightly taller man beside you turned his head to make direct eye contact with you.
A genuine smile came onto your face, a loud gasp coming from your mouth as you took him in. He looked overall the same but someone was different, another gasp left your mouth as you finally noticed what was off. “You finally dyed your hair!” Hanbin bit his lip as he gave you a sheepish shy smirk, cheeks turning red as your attention was completely on him.
He leaned his head forward as your hand came up to run through his hair, but since his eyes were focused on you he missed the taller man who was now directly against you, glaring at him as the world burned around them.
Heeseung was almost certain smoke was coming from his ears, rage consuming his body from his feet to chest. “Don’t fucking touch her” He growled out as he pulled you behind him, detaching Hanbins hold on your waist in the process.
You froze as you were shoved behind Heeseung, his right hand pressing against your back, pushing your body against his. You could feel his body shaking, yet the hand holding him against you was as gentle as possible.
Due to having Heeseungs taller body in front of you, your vision was constricted, the sight of Hanbin completely disappearing as Heeseungs leather jacket appeared.
You could faintly hear your members whispering near you, Yunjin trying to stomp over to the two of you only to stop as Sakura and Chaewon held her in place. You could hear her loud cursing, Heeseungs name falling from her mouth in a cluster of insults.
“Don’t think about touching my girl again” Heeseung tried to say quiet enough so that you wouldn’t hear him, knowing that you would later curse him out for his displaced possession over you.
“Didn’t think she was your girl was you were all over that random girl in the tabloids last week” Hanbin taunted the raging boy in front of him, smirking as Heeseung grew stiff as the words left his mouth. “What? Speechless? Everyone knows what happened, what you did”
Heeseung swore his heart skipped five beats, dropping at the same time the loud music surrounding them did. the strobe lights made him dizzy as he felt nauseous, he was going to throw up. “What girl?” His hand left your back and he grabbed Hanbins jacket, pulling the shorter boy up to his face.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Loud ticking entered Heeseung’s ears, a countdown until he blew up. His hands shook as they turned white, the blood from his palms staining Hanbin’s jacket. “Everyone knows you cheated on her”
Boom.
Heeseung lunged, fist connecting with Hanbin’s nose as they both knocked into the wall. Loud mumbling came from within the crowd as both Heeseung and Hanbin’s members came running over, separating them as Heeseung held the younger man down. “I would never do that to her” His voice shook as he backed up, “she knows that.”
He turned around to look at you only to see you leaving through the back door of the venue, your hair blowing behind you as the fan in the hallway blasted against you.
Heeseung ran behind you, feet thundering as the bass grew louder. His heart raced as he thought he lost sight of you, his hands balled together as he screamed in anger, punching the wall behind him as his heavy breathing filled the hallway.
“Are you done throwing our little bitch fit?” He spun around as your voice sounded from down the hall, his eyes lighting up as your heals clicked as you advanced towards him. Your dark eyes looked straight into his eyes as your body swayed towards him. “Yanno, punching Hanbin was so fucking stupid”
You watched as Heeseung rolled his eyes at the boys name, fists tightening as he recalled the events that just took place. “I’m not done with that fucker, I’m going to kill him” He went to walk back inside the room, stopping at your hand wrapped around his wrist. He looked over his shoulder, deflating as your unimpressed face came into view.
“Heeseung I can touch anyone I want-” “Like hell” Heeseung cut you off, anger shining in his words. You rolled your eyes again before continuing, “You broke up with me and disappeared for two weeks before randomly being sighted with some random girl at some random ass apartment building” He could feel your emotions in your words, heart growing heavy as he swallowed the ball in his throat.
“Baby-“ “Don’t touch me” you recoil from is touch, hand curling against your chest. Heeseung froze as you pulled away, staring at you in horror as he processed what just happened. “Just leave me alone, we’re done”
He watched as you turned around, hesitating a few seconds before walking away with a scoff, arms crossing against your chest as you stomped away.
“She was the realtor of that apartment building. I was going to buy us a place, our own place. Those photos were taken a few months ago, not a week ago. And I only broke up with you because I heard you talking about breaking up with me to Yunjin.”
“What?” You almost shouted in shock, eyebrows furrowing as you watched him walk back over to you in fast steps. This time you let him touch you, his large hand curling around the back of your neck. “You didn’t want me, Baby.” You could see the tears in his eyes, ones he didn’t even attempt to hide.
“What are you talking about, Heeseung? I was never going to break up with you?” Now the both of you were confused, eyes staring at each other for a passing moment. Small tears leaked from the corners of Heeseungs eyes as his lips rolled into his mouth, you couldn’t stop your lips from curling up into a smile at the cute sight before you. You cleared your throat as you tried to hide it but Heeseung caught it the moment it blossomed.
“Why are you smiling? That’s really fucked up you know, I’m sitting here crying like a bitch and you’re here laughing at me” Your smile turned into a full blown laugh as Heeseung pouted at you, kissing his teeth as he rolled his eyes.
“You’re so cute” Heeseung felt butterflies throughout his body as your hand rested against his cheek, his eyes darkening as your touch awoke something that’s been concealed since he left.
“Baby you don’t know what your touch does to me” He whispered as he pressed against the elevator button, a loud beep coming from the it as it opened. “You’re fucking me up, I feel you everywhere” He light pushed you into the elevator, one hand around the back of your neck with the other around your waist.
As soon as the elevators door closed heeseung pushed himself against you, hips rolling into your own as your back arched into him. His lips smashed into yours as his hand pinched at your waist.
His nose hit against your own as his head tilted to the side for more access. His lips sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth gently biting into it.
His tongue rubbed against your bottom lip as he released it from his hold, slipping right between your lips right soon after. A small whimper left his lips as he disconnected with your swollen ones to kiss against your neck.
“You taste so good” He whispered in your ear as he left a soft kiss against your earlobe, “so so good” he bit at the skin under your ear, trailing small bites down your throat to your collarbone.
He pushed his thigh between your legs, both of his hands grabbing your waist to rub you against him. He could feel your heat through his pants, his whole body warming up as he felt your familiar body against his own. “make yourself feel good against me” He begged, eyes looking up at you from below his lashes, “use me.”
“You’re so greedy” Heeseung closed his eyes as he felt you move against his leg, head falling back as your lips connected with his neck. “Only for you, always for you” Heeseung whimpered as your hot kisses grew stronger, your hand tightening in his hair as you pulled his head back further. His breath hitching as you controlled his body how you pleased, using him the way he liked.
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@ LVLYHANNI do not plagiarize, translate, copy or repost
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stllmnstr · 4 months
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champagne problems: part one
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pairing: jake sim x f reader
genre: enemies to lovers, rich kids au, fake dating au, college au, angst, fluff
part one word count: 15.6k
part one warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, family drama, a fatal case of second son syndrome
soundtrack: boom - dpr live / bad idea! - girl in red / blood on the floor - kuiper / calico - dpr ian / comme de garçons (like the boys) - rina sawayama / lust - chase atlantic
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
The second son of a wealthy family, Jake Sim has gotten used to always standing in the shadow of his older brother. From grades to girls to talks of becoming future CEO of the Sim Corporation, he’s no stranger to coming in second place. So when an opportunity arises for Jake to finally have the one thing his brother can’t and best him once and for all, he knows he’d be a fool not to take it.
There are only two problems. The first is that the thing his brother wants so badly isn’t a thing at all. It’s you, semi-estranged daughter of the Sims’ closest and most long-standing business partner.
The second is that Jake Sim can’t fucking stand you.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
PART ONE
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Fingers wrapping around the stem of your wine glass, you sigh. Punctuality may have been a steep order for someone who you suspect is running dangerously low on both common sense and regard for others, but twenty minutes? Really?
Your eyes land on the obnoxiously ornate grandfather clock next to the hostess stand. In a restaurant with ceilings so high you can barely see them and a carefully curated ambience that practically screams old money, it blends right in. It also gives you an updated timeframe on your would-be date’s tardiness. 
Scratch that – thirty minutes. 
Pulling out your phone, the absence of any new notifications is almost as annoying as whatever threadbare excuse you’re sure your date will offer you when he arrives. Glancing at the door, it remains devoid of any new patrons. Or perhaps rather if he arrives. 
You’re running near empty on both pinot noir and patience, and you use the distraction of your phone to make you seem a little less pathetic. As if this entire restaurant isn’t already privy to the fact that you’re actively being stood up. 
Well, you think wryly, at least you look good doing it. The off white ensemble you selected for the evening is Chanel, and vintage, at that. Usually you wouldn’t pull out all the stops like this for something as flimsy as a first date, but men like James Sim have an eye for this kind of thing. 
Four years your senior, he’s already carving out a name for himself at twenty-five. You suppose it is a little less impressive, though, when the name he was born with already carries a legacy of its own in the business world you usually do your very best to stay out of. Rumor has it he’s already a shoo-in for the next CEO of his father’s company. When nepotism is that blatant, you can’t do much but scoff and raise a glass to it. 
Scrambling for something to do to make your wasted time pass a bit quicker, you search up the social media profile of your would-be date. Honestly, you doubt you would learn anything more substantial about him if he actually bothered to show up than you will from scanning over his feed. In your experience, men like that tend to make up for their success on paper by lacking an actual personality and any sort of self-awareness. 
Gym selfie. Scroll. Gym selfie from a slightly different angle. Scroll. Dog photo. Pausing, you suppress a small smile. The dog in the picture is pretty cute, if nothing else. Zooming in slightly, your eyes crinkle at the way the dog’s tongue lolls out of its open mouth in a grin. Well, at least he’s got that going for him, you suppose. A cute dog is enough to bump any guy’s ranking up a few points in your book. 
If James Sim is nothing but a sum of his social media profile, it’s not like you expected anything else. After all, this is the heir to the Sim Corporation, a golden boy that was born with a crown on his head and a gold spoon in his mouth. Everything he’s earned has been laid out for him in painstakingly placed steps. His entire life has been guided by a heavy hand and the knowledge that he would one day inherit everything that makes his family worth knowing. 
You probably wouldn’t be too concerned with showing up to first dates on time, either. Especially since you doubt he’s ever been denied a second. 
Tonight is nothing but a blip on a radar, you’re sure. Something for a secretary to schedule and him to notice a day or five late. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on his team will send a consolatory bouquet once he does realize the mistake. He is still building his reputation, after all, and you could use a fresh set of flowers for your apartment. 
With another slightly pitiful sigh and a final swig of wine, your glass is empty and your optimism is shot. A second glance at the clock says that thirty-eight minutes have now elapsed since your scheduled meeting time. And in your opinion, that’s thirty-nine too late for a first date. 
Retrieving your coat from the back of your chair, you figure tonight will be remembered as nothing but a waste of a good outfit. Besides, you suppose forty minutes of aimless scrolling is ultimately less painful than the inevitable headache this date surely would have been had he bothered to actually show up. 
Suddenly, you frown. You won’t complain if this date never actually happens, but you may end up with a slight problem. Although you haven’t been on the best of terms with your mother in a long time, tonight was meant to be the final bullet point on a list of favors you owe her. 
As you pull your coat on, you consider the best way to frame the events of the evening. Lean into the whole ‘getting stood up’ thing in an effort to earn some sympathy points? Lay out the facts in their most basic form, timestamps included? Emphasize the fact that you waited long past the obligatory twenty minutes for him to actually show up? Or leave your message chain as it currently is, tell her nothing at all, and let her assume what she wants?
They’re all equally iffy, you think. Risky in their own regard. 
Signing your name at the bottom of the check, you scribble in a generous tip for the waitress who did her best to check on you often without making it obvious that she knew you were expecting company that never arrived, expertly skirting that line between overbearing and empathetic. At least someone will go home happy, you think, adding an extra zero for good measure. 
Exiting the restaurant, you decide to make it two people. James Sim may be a hotshot at his father’s company, but you’ll be damned before you let him ruin your evening. Before you order the Uber back to your place, you add an extra stop at your favorite sushi place. Takeout in the comfort of your own home will certainly be easier to enjoy than whatever Michelin-Star concoction you would have ordered here anyway, eaten in small bites between forced conversation topics, awkward pauses, and too long sips of wine. 
And an hour later, you’re polishing off the last piece of an absolutely divine rainbow roll, wearing nothing but silk pajamas and a face mask, with old reruns of your favorite show playing on the TV when James Sim finally glances down at the Rolex on his wrist. He’s finally arrived at the tail end of a meeting that’s running so far behind schedule he has half a mind to just walk out of it. He would, too, if his father wouldn’t actually threaten his life for it. 
It’s late, James realizes. Stupid late. So late that he won’t have the time or energy to do anything but pass out by the time he gets home, which really sucks, because he was genuinely looking forward to his date tonight–
“Fuck.”
All he can do is curse, even as the shocked faces of a concerning number of top executives turn to look at him all at the same time. 
Jake Sim is about to fail his econ midterm. 
It will be at least a week before grades are released, but he already knows it. He can already feel it in the way the questions start to swim in his mind, making less and less sense the more he turns them over, in the way his gut fills with dread as the minute hand of the clock at the front of the lecture hall ticks closer and closer to the testing time limit. 
And it wouldn’t be that bad, if it weren’t his second time repeating this course. 
Oh, his father is going to have an absolute field day with this one. Jake can practically hear it now. 
“You failed your midterm? After already failing this course twice? You know, James was actually the top scoring student in his economic section. Dr. Jeong still mentions his term paper every time I see him at the university…”
And that’s if he’s in a good mood. Or rather, if things at the company are going well. Jake doesn’t even want to consider the comments he’ll be on the receiving end of if the news of his failure finds his father already agitated. 
Exhaling, he gives his exam one final once-over, scanning for completion more than accuracy. His brain is so fried that he knows it’s of little use to him now. For his own sake, the best thing to do at this point is turn his test in and send a silent prayer to whoever might be listening on his way out the door. 
Leaving the lecture hall behind him, Jake puts his phone out of airplane mode and frowns at the two notifications that pop up on his screen. The first is a missed call from his brother, and the second is a message from the same sender, requesting that he give him a call when he has the chance. 
Considering that it’s neither his birthday nor a major holiday, Jake is more than a little confused. Regardless, he honors the request, pressing his phone to his ear as he begins the walk back to his apartment. Although it’s significantly less spacious than his childhood home, he finds it far more welcoming in more ways than one. 
The outgoing call rings once, twice, three times. Jake is about to be annoyed at the missed connection, but his brother answers in the moments just before he’s sent to voicemail.
“Hey, Jake.” Shocking. He actually bothered to check the caller ID. 
“Hey.” Jake’s voice is careful, guarded. It’s not like his personal life is of any importance to his older brother, but he’s not in the mood to answer any questions. He won’t give James any reasons to ask. “I saw your message.”
“Right.” Jake can hear the shuffle of other voices, scattered movements coming from the other line. James sounds busy. Just like always. Usually, that would usually mean he’s distracted. But Jake has the odd feeling that he has his brother’s undivided attention when James adds, “I have a favor to ask you.”
Immediately, Jake’s stomach drops. There are very few things in this world that are not within James Sim’s grasp, and even less that are within Jake’s, relatively speaking. Whatever it is, he must be desperate, if he’s willing to enlist the help of his little brother. 
“Okay.” Jake’s voice betrays none of his sudden anxieties. “What is it?”
At least James spares him the agony of suspense. “You know ___, right?”
Jake frowns. Sure, he knows of you. Just like he has a vague idea of every one of his family’s business partners and their immediate kin. Particularly the ones that are the same age as him and attend the same university. But it’s not like he’s close with you, not like he’s ever had an actual conversation of any substance with you. 
Especially since the minimal interactions the two of you have had did not leave Jake wanting more. The only child of parents whose last name is on the front of the most successful law firm within a thousand mile radius, you strike him as everything he’d expect you to be. 
Spoiled. Entitled. Vapid. Out of touch with any version of reality that doesn’t consist of you getting everything you want at the exact moment you want it. He supposes it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, considering his own upbringing, but he’d like to think that he’s earned what he’s been given, at least partially. Especially since most of it has been his brother’s hand-me-downs.  And it’s not like his father has ever been in the habit of doing him any favors that don’t come wrapped in criticism, comparison, and disdain.
Although rumor does have it you and your mother haven’t been on speaking terms since you left for university, Jake imagines it’s probably because you wanted to bring the limited edition Versace to campus with you, and she insisted it would be safer at home. 
Oh, well. Whatever designer dispute happened between you and your mother is no skin off his back. Jake has his own problems to worry about. 
One of them being his brother’s question that still lingers on the other line. 
Weighing responses in his head, Jake finally settles on, “I guess.” It’s his best attempt at being noncommittal. 
Unfortunately, it doesn’t do anything to dissuade his brother. “Do you have her number by chance? My secretary should have taken it down, but she can’t find it anywhere.”
Jake balks, footsteps faltering. An equally distracted student walking behind him nearly stumbles right into his back. Wordlessly, Jake sends them an apologetic look before clarifying, “Her number? Like, her personal phone number?”
“What other kind of number is there?” And there’s the James that Jake knows. Annoyed at the perceived incompetencies of his younger brother, just as always. 
Suddenly, Jake’s patience is running short too. James is the one asking for a favor and still has the gall to be annoyed with him. Typical. Jake’s words are clipped when he says, “No, I don’t have ___’s phone number.” 
Jake expects that to be the end of it, but his brother won’t let it go so easily. 
“Seriously? Don’t you two go to the same school?”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Right, because I have the entire student body on speed dial.”
There’s a pause on the other end. Jake half expects his brother to just hang up on him. After all, he’s never been able to take what he gets, to swallow what he dishes out. 
What Jake does not expect, however, is the way James sounds so tentative when he speaks again.  “Well…”
“Well what?” Patience already running thin, it’s all he can do not to snap. 
“Do you think you could get it for me?”
Jake must be dreaming. This must be a post-exam punishment, a hallucination brought on by over exerting his brain too far for too long. “Do I think I could get ___’s phone number for you?” he repeats flatly. 
“Is there an echo in here?” Asshole. At least he’s consistent. 
“Just an echo chamber,” Jake mutters away from the receiver. 
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Jake stops for a moment to fiddle with his keyring as he walks up the stairs to his apartment. “No, I can’t get her phone number for you.” 
“Why not?”
The key won’t line up quite right. Jake tries again, frustration seeping through. “Because I have better things to do than run stupid errands for you. Why don’t you drive here and get it yourself?”
“Trust me, if I thought she’d give it to me, I’d be there in an hour.”
The lock on his door finally clicks open, and Jake all but throws his bag down after kicking off his shoes. “And what the hell makes you think she’d give it to me?”
“Well, you didn’t accidentally stand her up, for one.” James doesn’t sound embarrassed by it. Just matter-of-fact. Like a date is nothing but a business deal. Something to be rescheduled and redone if negotiations go sour the first time around. 
It is enough to stir up some of Jake’s curiosity, though. “You went on a date with ___?” He supposes it makes sense. Even if the rumor mill and its rumblings about your rocky relationship with your mother ring true, you’re still your parents’ daughter. Still a perfect match on paper for the future CEO of the Sim Corporation. The king of a company and princess of a law firm. It’s a match made in heaven, he thinks ruefully. 
“No, I didn’t. That’s kind of the whole point here.”
“Whatever.” Jake still doesn’t see what the hell he has to do with all this. “Why don’t you just look up her parents’ number in the company database and get it from them?”
Jake can practically feel his brother’s exasperation through the phone. “Right, because that would go over really well. Hi there," he imitates. “I’d like to make your daughter the mother of my future children. Care to pass along her phone number so I can get started on that?”
Jake suppresses a wince. “Jesus. I see why she stood you up.”
“She didn’t. I stood her up,” James clarifies. “On accident.”
Semantics. And not ones that Jake is interested in. “Either way. I’m not getting her number for you.”
“Yeah?” Jake is unsettled by the way there’s still no trace of defeat in his brother’s voice. There’s something almost sinister when he suddenly switches topics. “How are classes going?”
Jake’s lips pull into a taut line, disaster of an econ midterm still fresh on his mind. “Fine.”
“Really? Even econ? Third time’s the charm and all that?” Well, at least his brother can be counted on to consistently be an asshole.
“Why do you care?” The only thing Jake wants to do is end this call and crawl into bed for a well-deserved afternoon nap. Let his subconscious spare him from thoughts of his older brother and econ and you for at least a little bit. 
James has other plans. “You must have taken the midterm recently, right?” Jake’s silence is confirmation enough. “You know, the only thing Dr. Jeong weighs more heavily than the midterm is the final paper at the end of the semester.”
A minute ago, Jake thought you were the last thing he wanted to talk about. The sudden shift in direction in this conversation is starting to prove him wrong. If there’s one thing Jake would rather discuss even less than his older brother’s dating life, it’s school. “What does that have to do with a–”
“And I think I still have my copy of the paper that earned me the top score in my entire section.” The smugness is practically palpable. “I might have to do some digging, but I’m sure it’s in my old files somewhere.”
Jake rolls his eyes, wishes the immediate comparison weren’t the first thing to rise to the forefront of his mind. Wishes it didn’t find him so lacking. Wishes it wasn’t narrated in the voice of his disappointed father. “If you’re trying to gloat, it’s n–”
“I’m trying to strike a deal. Jesus, no wonder you’re on track to be a super senior getting a business degree.”
“This is my third year,” Jake defends indignantly. 
“And your third attempt at econ, which I passed in my first year.” He sounds like he’s settling a little too well into the CEO role when he proposes, “I’m trying to make it your last attempt.” 
Jake would be lying if he said his curiosity weren’t piqued, even just slightly. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, little brother, that my term paper, my notes, all of it, are yours.” It sounds too good to be true. It has to be too good to be true. James is a lot of things, but generous and helpful are very rarely any of them. “As soon as you get me ___’s number.” And there it is. 
Jake hangs up without bothering to dignify that with a response and hopes it sends a strong enough signal of his refusal. Then, he falls into his bed face-first with a groan. 
And a week later, when his econ midterm results are finally posted, the first thing Jake does is let his head fall on his desk with an alarmingly loud thud that has Jay poking his head in the door to make sure everything’s okay. The second thing he does, a solid twenty minutes later, is send his older brother a text. 
Jake [7:21pm]: You better start digging through those old files. 
All things considered, you’re easier to track down than Jake expects. The university campus is big, and judging from the way he can’t remember ever seeing you in a class, the two of you don’t share a major. But the similarities in your social status mean you’re bound to run in some of the same circles, and Jake is able to use this to his advantage. 
Ultimately, it takes very little digging on his part. First, he mentions your name to Jay in the middle of an upper body superset in the university gym. Jay frowns, setting the weights back on the rack. 
“That name sounds familiar. I think maybe Heeseung knows her?”
That tidbit takes him to Wednesday night, which always finds Jake in the library at a statistics study group Heeseung also makes a habit of attending. On their way out for the evening, Jake stops him by the door. 
“___?” Heeseung pauses for a moment in contemplation. “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with Sunghoon.”
And the third piece of the puzzle proves a bit more difficult to click into place. Sunghoon is harder for Jake to find, at least in a way that comes across naturally. Much like yours, Park Sunghoon is a name Jake hears in passing more than anything. He’s a friend of friends, a mutual acquaintance that Jake has never really had a conversation with and certainly doesn’t know well enough to interrogate for your phone number. 
But his most recent midterm score is still looming over his head, and the thought of retaking econ again is so nightmarish it sends a shiver down his spine  every time he considers it. At this point, there isn’t much Jake wouldn’t put on the line to pass the damn class. Including his pride, apparently. 
So when Jake hears from Jay who hears from Heeseung that Sunghoon will probably be at the party Epsilon Nu Eta is throwing this Friday night, he starts to formulate a plan. 
And he starts to regret said plan less than twenty-four hours later when he finds himself on the doorstep of a frat party. A frat party. He can’t remember the last time he came to one of these things. At twenty-one, he already feels geriatric as he tugs self-consciously at the sleeves of the plan black long sleeve he put on for the occasion. Something that will hopefully hide the questionable stains he’ll inevitably leave with. 
Entering through the front door with hinges that don’t align quite right, Jake has one mission in mind: find Park Sunghoon. Find him and somehow convince him to pass along your number. There’s a fine line to be walked there, Jake thinks. If he comes across as too eager, it will just be creepy. Nonchalance is the name of the game, but he’s never been good at keeping his cards close to his chest. 
For Jake, it’s a tall order, which means the only detour he’ll allow himself is grabbing a cup of lukewarm beer from the kitchen before he sets out looking for Sunghoon. The alcohol is an effort to break the barrier of his inhibitions more than anything. To make what he’s about to do feel a little less painful. 
Making his way out of the kitchen, Jake wanders aimlessly for a few minutes. He doesn’t know much about Sunghoon, other than the fact that he competes for your university’s figure skating team and is undeniably handsome. A good-looking figure skater, Jake thinks as he turns down yet another crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink. Where would one of those be hiding? 
He spends a few more awkward minutes asking around to no avail. Just when he’s on the verge of saying fuck it and making some sort of sacrifice to the econ gods instead, Jake bumps into the man of the hour on his way to the bathroom. 
In the chaos, Jake doesn’t recognize him until it’s almost too late. “Hey,” Jake calls out, bladder all but forgotten for now. He’s trying to fake an air of coolness when he adds, “Sunghoon, right?”
“Yeah.” Jake thanks his lucky stars that Sunghoon must be at least two drinks in, because he doesn’t seem weirded out at all by the sudden question from a near stranger. 
“I’m Jake.” He reaches his arm out for a handshake. Blinking, Sunghoon just stares at his outstretched hand as long, awkward moments bleed into each other. Eventually, Jake just lets it fall back to his side. “I’m, uh, in a statistics class with Heeseung.”
“Right on,” Sunghoon nods, still unsure if this conversation has a point to it. Luckily, the pleasant haze clouding his thoughts means he doesn’t mind too much either way. 
Jake figures there’s no point in dragging this out by exchanging more pleasantries, and he has the feeling Sunghoon might start forgetting his own name, much less yours, if he lets this continue for too long. 
“Listen,” Jake starts, trying to sound as not creepy as possible. “I heard that you know ___ pretty well.”
Sunghoon just shrugs. Jake can’t tell if he’s succeeded. “You could say that.”
“I know this is a strange request, but, uh,” Jake scratches the side of his head, “is there any chance I could get her number? I promise not to do anything weird.” Word vomiting, the extra details are spilling out before he can stop them. “It’s not even for me, actually–”
Sunghoon spares him the rest of a rambling explanation. “Sorry, bud. No can do.”
Jake’s stomach tightens in panic. He really, really just needs your phone number. It has him forgetting his earlier inhibitions, throwing caution to the wind even if he’s making a bit of a fool of himself in the process. “It’s for something important, actually. I’m kind of desperate–”
Sunghoon just puts a consolatory hand on Jake’s shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “Look, man, it’s nothing against you personally, but I have literally never met you in my life. Besides, if I gave out ___’s number to every random guy that asked, I’m pretty sure she’d shave my head.” Sunghoon leans in close, like he’s about to share a secret. Jake’s nose twists at the scent of alcohol on his breath. “And between you and me, I don’t think I could pull off being bald.” 
Jake kind of begs to differ, but that’s neither here nor there. He opens his mouth to plead his case again, but Sunghoon doesn’t even let him get a word out. 
“Sorry, man, but I really can’t help you.” Pausing for a moment, he considers. “You said your name was Jacob, though, right?” He doesn’t pause long enough for Jake to correct him. “I could ask her if she’s cool with giving you her number–”
“Whose number are you giving out?” And if Jake thought this conversation wasn’t enough of a train wreck already, trust the timing of your entrance to be more disastrous than divine. 
Eyes turning to you and your sudden intrusion on the conversation, Jake’s mind goes blank for a minute.  And yeah, he kinda gets why his brother’s so hellbent on having a second chance at your time. Dressed in all black, your hair is loose around your face. Even though it likely costs more than most people’s monthly paycheck, there’s nothing inherently special about what you’re wearing. Still, Jake is finding it exceedingly difficult to look away. 
It’s something in your aura, he thinks. In the way you carry yourself. Something that money can’t buy. Something that makes his gaze want to linger. 
“___!” Sunghoon grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, wobbling slightly. You jostle at the sudden impact, inching away from where the contents of his cup slosh dangerously close to the rim. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”
Your brow creases in confusion. Jake tracks the miniscule movement with parted lips. 
“You were?”
“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirms, just at the same moment Jake shakes his head, “No.”
Turning your mildly concerned gaze away from your friend, you glance at Jake for the first time. Brow furrowing further, you cock your head to the side as your lips part in partial recognition. He looks oddly familiar, but you can’t quite place him. “Do I know you?”
“No.” Jake shakes his head again, a little too fervently. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. At least not properly.”
It’s an odd way of putting it. You’re about to ask him to clarify when Sunghoon cuts in, clearing up the confusion for you. “It’s Jacob,” he says, as if that should mean anything to you. Turning back to the boy across from him, he adds, “Jacob Sim, right?”
And that clicks things into place.  
“Sim?” you echo, realization dawning on your features.
“Yep,” Sunghoon confirms. 
Across from you, Jake says nothing. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. In fact, he’s pretty sure his life is flashing before his eyes. 
“Sim,” you repeat one final time, jaw ticking in agitation as everything starts to settle. “I do know you.”
“Oh, really?” Sunghoon asks at your side, oblivious to the way your tone betrays obvious animosity. A distaste so palpable Jake can practically feel it radiating off of you. Turning back to Jake, he’s apologetic. “Sorry, Jacob. I guess I could have given you her number, then.” Sunghoon smiles sheepishly, as if he hasn’t just made things a million times worse. “My bad.”
Jake’s eyes widen in horror as he scrambles for some sort of defense, an explanation that will dig him out of this rapidly deepening hole, but you beat him to it. 
“My number?” The look you give him has a concerning amount of venom in it. “Seriously? God, why are all you Sim men so obsessed with me?”
“That’s not–” 
“First your brother views my LinkedIn profile twenty-three times after standing me up, and now you’re harassing my friends for my phone number?”
“Hold on. I’m not harassing anyone–”
“No,” Sunghoon agrees, nodding diplomatically. “Jacob was perfectly pleasant–”
“It’s Jake, actually.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, just Jake.”
“Sorry,” Sunghoon apologizes. Turning to you, he tries mediating again. “Well, like I said, just Jake was perfectly pleasant–”
“I don’t care how pleasant he is.” Your glare somehow becomes icier. “Leave me alone, and tell your dickhead brother to do the same.” Muttering to yourself more than anything, you add, “The last thing I need right now is you practically stalking me–”
“Stalking you?” Jake flounders, an edge of annoyance creeping into his tone. He’s not surprised to learn that you really do think the world revolves around you, but really? Stalking?  “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I’m enjoying this interaction any more than you are.”
You don’t back down, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement has Sunghoon teetering dangerously where he leans on you, but you pay him no mind, attention focused solely on the man in front of you. “Then why do you want my phone number so bad?”
“Like I was trying to say earlier when you wouldn’t let me get a word out sideways,” Jake bites, “it’s not for me. I made a deal with someone, and I told them I’d give them your number.”
Your gaze narrows. “Who?”
“What?”
“Who did you make a deal with?”
Jake hesitates, knowing how the truth will sound. Screw it – a lie would likely be just as damning. Still, it takes him another pregnant pause to eventually admit, “... My brother.”
Scoffing in disbelief, you double down on your ire. “Absolutely not.” Shaking Sunghoon off your shoulder, you turn to leave, dragging him with you. Jake’s eyes close; he can’t bear to watch his last chance at passing this semester leave him in the dust.  
So much so that he pleads again, “Wait, ___. Please.” Jake is begging now, and he feels a little pathetic for it. Still, he can’t help the way desperation drives him to continue. “You can block him for all I care. I can’t explain everything, but my life is quite literally in your hands right now. I just need–”
“No.” The single syllable vibrates with finality. “Do I have to spell it for you? N-” you bite, enunciating so sharply Jake thinks you might draw blood. “O. No. I’m not giving my number to you or your flake of  a brother or anyone else that so much as looks like they might have the name Sim.”
God, is the only think Jake can think as he miserably watches your retreating figure, Sunghoon stumbling along  as you drag him with you. I am so fucked. 
When Sunghoon finally emerges from your guest bedroom an hour before noon the next day, it’s to ask if you’d be kind enough to spare him some Advil. Even with a bad case of bedhead and the aftermath of overconsumption, he still manages to look good, albeit a little lifeless. 
“I’ll do you one better,” you tell him, but reach for the small white bottle anyway, shaking out a few tablets and offering them to your best friend along with a glass of cold water.
“Bagels and coffee?” Sunghoon asks over the rim of his glass, with a little more alertness in his eyes than there was moments before. 
“Bagels and coffee,” you confirm. A tried and true hangover cure, if there ever was one. And even though your head is feeling nice and clear, thanks to your trusty two drink limit that has yet to fail you, the local cafe a block from your apartment is very rarely something you turn down. 
Thirty minutes later and a change of clothes later, the two of you are trading gossip and stealing bites of each other’s orders when the other person isn’t looking at the table in the back corner of the cafe. Sunghoon is just about to stuff another piece of your bagel in his mouth when he notices yet another notification light up the screen of your phone. 
Sunghoon nods towards where it rests on the table, bagel suddenly forgotten. “Is that your mom again?”
“Yep.” Your lips stretch thin. You don’t even need to glance down at your phone to confirm. She’s been blowing up your notifications all weekend.  “She’s been on my ass about the upcoming fundraiser event for days now. And reminding me about the utmost importance of bringing an appropriate plus-one.”
Across from you, Sunghoon straightens his shoulders. “I suppose it is about time I bust out the trusty old prom suit again.”
You sigh, sending your half-eaten bagel a forlorn glance. “I wish. She told me if I ever bring you again, I lose half my trust fund.”
“What?” Sunghoon looks affronted. “Why?”
You level him with a look. “Does soap ring a bell?”
Sunghoon splutters in indignation. “That was one time,” he defends. “And anyone would have thought those were edible! They were shaped like candies, and they were on a platter–”
“Soap presentation aside, I don’t think that excuse will work on her.” The dejection in your voice is apparent. “Besides, she’s already made it very clear that you’re explicitly forbidden from attending any future family events as my plus-one.”
“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles. “Keep all your stupid inedible soaps.” Pausing for a moment, he realizes that still leaves a giant question hanging in the air. “Who are you gonna bring, then? You know, it kind of is too bad your date with Sim number one didn’t pan out.”
You shrug, pointedly ignoring the way your phone screen lights up yet again. It really is a bit of a shame James turned out to be an unreliable flake. One that still hasn’t bothered to apologize to you or even give any sort of indication that he remembered your scheduled date. Still, you can’t think of anyone that would earn your mother’s approval faster. “I’ll probably just fake a stomach flu.” After all, you’re kind of out of options. “I thought about asking Jungwon, but he’s got stuff going on for his internship that night. A big economics conference or something.”
“Speaking of economics,” Sunghoon leans in conspiratorially. “I think I might have some intel on our new friend from last night.”
“How was economics the segue you went with? We were literally just talking about his older brother.” Giving him a look of disbelief, you add, “And what about that interaction gave you the impression that we’re friends?”
“Whatever,” Sunghoon brushes you off before he continues, “Anyway, I heard from Heeseung who heard from Jay that apparently little Sim is hot garbage at economics. Rumor has it he’s already failed the class twice and is on track to do it again.”
You’re not sure why he’s deemed this information relevant to you, but you’d be lying if you said it weren’t a little amusing. 
“Really? Jungwon’s taking it now too, and he said that he sleeps through half the lectures and is still pulling an A.”
Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be prodigies.”
Your lips flatten. “Pretty sure you don’t have to be a prodigy to not fail an entry level course three times.”
“Hey, cut him some slack,” Sunghoon argues. “He’s only failed it twice as of now.”
You scoff, entirely uninterested in the gory details of Jake Sim’s academic failures. “Whatever.”
“Either way,” Sunghoon says, “Jay told Heeseung who told me that’s why he’s so desperate for your number.” Confusion makes itself known on your features. You still don’t see the connection until Sunghoon adds, “Apparently he made some sort of deal with his brother that if he gets him your phone number, he’ll help him pass econ.”
A beat of silence passes between you. The barista at the counter calls out a customer’s name. It’s all you can do to not let your jaw physically drop open, mostly because–
“That is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Glaring at Sunghoon, you can’t believe the theatrics of it all. “How many times have I told you to stop believing everything Heeseung says?”
“Technically, Jay said it,” Sunghoon corrects. “And I don’t know... It kind of makes sense when you think about it.”
You beg to differ. “It absolutely does not. What is this, middle school? Are we passing notes behind the teacher’s back and making our friends ask our crushes if they like us back?” It’s ridiculous. Absolutely, utterly ridiculous. 
There is no way. Absolutely no way that James Sim, heir to a multimillion dollar company, is wasting his time giving his little brother an economics cheat sheet in exchange for your phone number. 
Sunghoon raises his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I just thought you might be curious.”
And you hate to admit it, but you kind of are. Even though every ounce of logic you’ve accumulated in twenty-one years of life tells you that Heeseung is a notorious gossip whose stories are just as much fiction as reality and your best friend is no better. Even though the whole thing makes absolutely no sense at all. 
Even though you repeat it to yourself over and over for the rest of the day, that damn curiosity is still there. Pestering you and disturbing your sleep and leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, some things are entirely too ridiculous to be anything but true. 
On Wednesday night, Jake and Heeseung are in the middle of a particularly brutal probability set when a sudden shadow looms over their favorite corner table on the third floor of the library. 
Glancing up, Jake finds Heeseung’s gaze already trained somewhere over his shoulder. Jake can’t quite tell if the look on his face is confusion or terror. 
“Mind if I join?” The request comes from behind him, posed in an oddly familiar voice. Heeseung is nodding in agreement before Jake has the chance to so much as turn around and identify the intruder. 
All is revealed soon enough, though, when you slide down into the seat next to him, ignoring the way Heeseung scrambles to move his things and make room for you in the seat next to him. Instead, you busy yourself with setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your laptop. 
It’s all Jake can do to stare at you blankly. This evening, you’ve traded the all black outfit from the other night’s party for something a bit more casual, something comfortable that blends in better to the background of a university library. The sudden proximity also means that the scent of your perfume is quick to waft over towards him. 
Jake does his best to hold his breath before his brain can trick him into thinking he likes it. 
“Stop looking at me like that.” A bold request for someone who just hijacked a study session and sat down with no explanation, but Jake wouldn’t expect anything less from you. 
“Like what?” The words are out before he gives them permission. Across the table, Heeseung is staring too, but all three of you know the command isn’t for him. 
“I don’t know.” Glancing at the battery bar hovering just above empty, you dig around in your bag for a moment for your laptop charger. Jake notes that you still have yet to look at him. Instead, you begin to busy yourself with typing something on your computer. “Just stop it.”
He hopes you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into the side of your head as his blank stare shifts into a glare. 
Heeseung glances between the two of you. His outburst is sudden. “Oh! I just remembered.” He hits his head for good measure. The acting is wasted on this audience, though. Neither of you pay him any mind or even bother to glance in his direction. “I have to go, uh…” he trails off, finishing lamely with a rather flat, “somewhere else.”
“Great.” Your eyes don’t leave your screen, fingers still flying on your keyboard. “See you later.”
As Heeseung scrambles to pack up his unfinished statistics homework and high tail it out of the library, the air that has suddenly become stifling, Jake glances down at where your fingers are still moving. 
Distractedly, he wonders how you can type so fast with nails that long, how you never seem to need the backspace key. How none of the pastel pink that coats your fingernails seems to be so much as chipped. A projection of perfection, he thinks, down to every last detail.  
Moments pass, neither of you saying anything.
You still haven’t looked at him by the time you do eventually break the impasse. “I heard you suck at econ.”
And Jake actually cannot believe you. “Did you seriously hunt me down just to rub it in?”
“Rub it in?” That at least earns him some of your attention, even if it is just a brief, confused glance as your fingers pause in their typing. “It’s not like I’m the reason you can’t pass.”
“Believe it or not, you quite literally are.”
You sigh, removing your hands from your keyboard entirely. Then, before he can blink, you spin your entire body in your chair, eyes, shoulders, and knees all directly trained on him. Jake can’t help the way he flinches back a few inches at the sudden change in pace. 
“Look,” you start. He can already tell by the way you wrap the single syllable sound in patronization that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you’re about to say. “I can tell that you’re not used to, like, having conversations with people, but usually what happens is you give someone enough information so that they know what you’re talking about.” He’s right. 
And he’s quick to defend himself. “Maybe I could, if you’d let me get three words out without interr–”
But you’ve moved on already. “Is the whole ‘deal with your brother’ thing true?”
Jake lets the silence linger for a moment, looking at you in disbelief. “You literally just proved my point.”
You roll your eyes. “I knew what you were going to say, so I sped things along. Now answer my question.” You lay it out for him again. This time, even more directly. “Did you try to get my number because of some deal you made with your brother?”
He’s not sure why it sounds so ridiculous, narrated back to him in your voice. It’s not like it was a brilliant, foolproof plan to begin with, but the way you present it has him feeling about five inches tall. 
“I…”
“It’s a yes or no question.” You really don’t beat around the bush, he thinks. 
“Yes, okay?”
Looking behind you, you suddenly lean in a little closer. It’s all Jake can do not to flinch back again. Bringing your hand up to cup your mouth, it’s like you’re about to divulge a terrible secret when you whisper, “You’re that bad at econ?”
Jake just sighs. “Worse, probably.”
Frowning, you pull back a few inches. “Aren’t you a business major? Isn’t econ, like, pretty important for you?” If he were thinking clearly, Jake might wonder how you know that. But that only thing his mind has space for right now is annoyance. At you, at this exchange, at the way you so easily pick through his flaws and seem to have no problem laying them bare at his feet like he doesn't already know them intimately.
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I got any say in my major,” Jake counters. He might have more patience for this conversation if he were having it with anyone but you, if you weren’t throwing his own insecurities back in his face with every follow-up question.
At that, something flickers through your eyes. Sympathy, maybe. “Fair enough.” Whatever it is, it’s gone before he can identify it. And it’s not enough to make you pull your punches. “Still though, that’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jake doesn’t need the reminder. “Just get a tutor like everyone else.”
The thing is, Jake has thought about it. On more than one occasion. He’s even gotten so far as filling out the university tutor request form. He just could never quite bring himself to complete the ‘Name’ field without all of the potential consequences forcing him to hit backspace. 
He might not be his brother, but he’s not stupid enough to think that his family would ever be okay with the Sim name anywhere near a tutor form. He tells you as much. “And listen to my dad tell me how much of a disappointment I am for not being able to even take a class on my own?” Jake laughs humorlessly. “No thanks.”
A beat passes. Two. You’re not done yet, but you at least have the decency to sound a little apologetic, a little tentative when you say, “Not to kick you while you’re down or anything, but I mean, that has to be better than failing twice.”
Jake just shakes his head. “You don’t know my father.”
You shrug but don’t press the matter further. Truth be told, you don’t know his father, but you do know fathers like him. You have one of your own. The third floor of the library doesn’t seem like the place for that conversation, though, even if you’ve already uncovered more than your fair share of each other’s secrets in the last ten minutes. “I guess not.”
Your phone is buzzing far too incessantly for a Saturday morning, much less this early on a Saturday morning. Internally, you curse Friday night you, who forgot to switch it into do not disturb before falling asleep. Face still buried in your pillow, you reach around your nightstand blindly with the intention of remedying that particular mistake and enjoying a few more moments of peace.
Before you can make good on your plan, you make the fatal mistake of reading the message preview before silencing your phone. And suddenly, to your neverending annoyance, you’re wide awake. 
Mom [7:36 am]: Looking forward to seeing you next Saturday at the fundraiser. 
Mom [7:37 am]: I also noticed that you haven’t indicated who you’ll be bringing yet. Please fill out the RSVP form when you have a moment. 
Mom [7:45 am]: James Sim hasn’t RSVP’d yet. Are you bringing him? You should invite him if you haven’t already.
Mom [7:53 am]: I also never heard the update after your date a few weeks ago. Hoping no news is good news. I just spoke with his father the other day, and it sounds like he’s doing great things over at their company. 
Mom [8:01 am]: I also heard that he volunteered a few summers ago rebuilding turtle habitats. Wow! I think you two would get along very well.
Groaning, you flip your phone back over. That about sums up how well she knows her only daughter, you think ruefully. If she thought wooing you with turtles was a good idea, she must have forgotten that you’ve had a lingering phobia of the freaky little reptiles since your friend from elementary school had a pet turtle that bit your finger when you were at her house. 
Besides, you have serious doubts that’s actually how James Sim spent his last summer in university. 
If memories from your social media scrolling serve correctly, rebuilding turtle habitats was code for partying on a yacht for a month straight. You don’t care how he spends his free time, but the way he already has your mother wrapped around his stupid finger is enough to annoy any lingering sleepiness out of your system. 
Whatever. James Sim’s white lies are the least of your concerns now, and they certainly won’t solve your problems. If anything, you’re starting to regret not telling your mother anything about your failed attempt at a first date with him. Now, trying to explain that disaster of an evening would only sound like an excuse at best and a flimsy lie at worst. 
And even if she did believe you, you still have the glaring issue of next Saturday and your lack of a pre-approved plus-one.
With one final groan, you pull your blanket over your face, trying and failing to banish any thoughts of your mother, James Sim, and the certain disaster next weekend will be. 
Despite your best efforts, your worries linger. They follow you into Sunday; they start to make you desperate on Monday. With a diminishing handful of days left until the fundraiser, your anxiety only surges. 
By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’re so stressed out that you can barely force your eyes to focus on the nearly blank Word document in front of you, all of the legalese and case details you can usually sort through in your sleep jumbling into one incomprehensible blob. 
Halfway through your third reread of a paragraph that details the basics of copyright law, it strikes you. The seedling of an idea so utterly ridiculous it just might be your saving grace.  
Your mother probably, definitely, couldn’t care less about James Sim’s so-called affinity for wildlife rescue. No, the only thing that makes him an appropriate candidate in her eyes for this Saturday has nothing to do with his personality at all. 
It’s his name that she likes. His family name specifically. 
In the middle of your favorite cafe, it hits you. The seedling of an idea sprouts roots, begins to bloom. 
If one Sim is good enough to be your plus-one, then surely the other one would be too. 
And you know exactly where he’ll be tonight. Glancing down at the time on your phone, you force your brain to think. Now, all you need is a plan. A way to convince him. Something he can’t refuse.  
Closing the lid of your laptop, you smile. You know exactly what it is he wants. 
Before you leave the cafe, you send a quick message to a friend. Set your plan in place so that the details are polished, irrefutable when you present it to him.
And then you set out for the university library. 
When you find Jake and Heeseung sitting at the same exact table on the third floor of the library, Heeseung doesn’t even bother to stick around for the customary greetings. Instead, he takes one single look at you before offering another flimsy excuse about having somewhere to be. Or maybe something to do. You can’t remember, and it doesn’t really matter. 
After all, the only reason you’re here is because–
“I have a way for you to pass econ.” Sliding into the seat next to Jake, the same one you sat in last time, you don’t waste any time before divulging the reason for your presence. 
If Jake is startled, he doesn’t show it. Statistics homework forgotten on the table, the only thing you see on his face is pure, obvious relief as his shoulders relax. 
“Thank god.” Reaching for his phone, he unlocks it, tapping and swiping until he’s ready to enter a new contact. “Give me your number, and I’ll–”
You shake your head, interrupting his train of thoughts. The way you smile makes him suddenly uneasy. He thought this was over, but now he’s not so sure. You confirm his fears when you say, “A different way.”
Now Jake just looks exasperated. If you keep up this habit, he’s about to start failing statistics too. Never mind the fact that he got his hopes up for what he is sure will turn out to be a giant pile of nothing. Still, he humors you. “What do you mean, a different way?”
“I mean,” you start, folding your hands across your lap. Jake has the distinct impression that you’re trying your best to be as convincing as possible. If nothing else, it does pique his curiosity. He’s never seen you be anything but annoyed or uninterested. It’s an interesting change of pace.“I have a friend who’s also taking econ right now and hasn’t scored below a 98 on a single assignment.” Jesus, Jake thinks. Must be nice. 
And then you drop the bomb on him. “He said he’s more than willing to tutor you. For money, of course.” you specify, moving on so quickly he hardly has the chance to process what you’re saying. “And it’s not like you can’t afford it, but I’ll split the cost with you. For the principle of it all.” There’s a beat of silence as what you’ve just said settles into the air. “Oh,” you add, remembering the most important detail. “And he’ll be discreet. Under the table tutoring, if you will. No chance of word getting back to Daddy Sim.” 
You do your best to give him your most trustworthy smile. Jake just stares back at you, mildly horrified.
When he finally speaks again, it’s to say, “... Please, and I mean this with every single bone in my body, please never refer to my father like that again.”
Not even bothering to look sheepish, the only agreement you offer is a mock salute. 
Your poor taste in nicknames aside, it does seem like a pretty sweet deal from where Jake is sitting. He cannot fail economics again, and getting a tutor would mean that his brother couldn’t hold his success over his head, couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for it. And a discreet tutor would be even better. Not going through the official university system would mean a much lower chance of his father ever finding out he got some help along the way.
All things considered, and very much to his surprise, Jake is having a hard time seeing any downsides. 
He goes through the list again. First, he gets to pass economics. Second, he doesn’t have to deal with his older brother in the process. Third, he gets a tutor that won’t pop up on his father’s radar, and all Jake has to do in return is–
Wait.
“Hold on a minute.” There’s an unmistakable edge of suspicion in Jake’s voice. There’s no way you went out of your way to find him a tutor, to help pay for it, without getting something in return. The wheels in his mind are starting to spin when he asks, “What’s in it for you?”
Next to him, you smile. It’s small, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you almost look nervous. “It’s just a small favor, really.” The expression on your face is not reassuring in the slightest. Still, you insist, “It’ll be easy, I promise. Just a few hours of your time at most.”
Jake knows better than to agree without details. And especially to anything you’re proposing. He’s already preparing to kiss his dreams of passing econ goodbye when he asks slowly,“What is it?”
You sigh, pretenses dropping. If you’re going to convince him now, you might as well do it with honesty. “That annual charity fundraiser event my parents throw. Your parents are usually there, I think. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone?”
Jake shrugs, frowning as he tries to remember. He’s not entirely sure either. After a while, fundraisers and events and family obligations all start to blur together. Although the name does ring a bell, albeit a distant, faint one. 
“Anyway,” you continue, “my mother is insistent that I bring a date. Someone she considers appropriate company. You know, runs in the same circles and comes from what she would consider a good family.” Jake nods. He does know exactly what you mean. Picking up on his agreement, you add with a twinge of hopefulness, “Like I said, it would be easy. Especially for you, since you’re used to this kind of stuff. I wouldn’t have to train you–”
That has Jake rolling his eyes. “Let me guess. I get a treat for rolling over?”
The ice in your glare is half hearted. “You know what I mean. There are certain…” You weigh your words carefully. “expectations at these things.” Pausing for a moment, you add, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’ll eat the soap, even if it’s candy shaped and on a platter.”
If you were trying to clarify your point, you did a terrible job. Jake’s brow pulls downwards in confusion. “Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor?”
“Unfortunately not.” You shake your head, but don’t explain any further. Sunghoon’s mishaps are not the point of this conversation. A mutually beneficial deal is. Which is why you ask him, “So, what do you say? Are you in or not?”
Is he? Jake says nothing, considering. Mentally, he goes through the list of pros and cons. Pros, he thinks. I get to finally pass econ, and I get to do it without my brother. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, gaze tracking the movement as you nervously bite at your lower lip. Also, I get to show up at an event with the girl he’s been trying to get for weeks now. 
He’d be lying if that didn't spark a certain warm feeling in his chest, if it didn’t inspire a sudden bout of preemptive vindication. But there are other things to consider.
Cons, he continues internally. I have to spend an entire evening at an event hosted by your family and make them believe you don’t annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.
Weighing his options, Jake has one more question. “How long would it be?” he asks, and you try to stifle a grin, as if he’s already told you yes. 
“The event is technically four hours,” you say carefully, “but I’m sure we could manage to sneak out after a solid two and a half.”
Jake nods, thinking it over a moment longer. 
“Okay,” he finally breathes, hoping this isn’t some kind of terrible, elaborate trick, that he isn’t about to sign his life away on a dotted line. 
For econ, he thinks. For what’s left of his struggling GPA. He can manage a single night at a mind-numbingly boring high society function. Even if it’s with you. “I’m in.”
And it feels a bit strange, he has to admit, as he watches you type your contact information into his contact list. It feels odd to have your number in his phone with no intention of passing it on. To know that he’s the one who will be using it to confirm the details of this Saturday. To know that his brother will be none the wiser and not at all closer to having any kind of access to you.  
And if that strange surge of smugness makes another sudden appearance, well, Jake just figures that no one ever has to know about it. 
Frowning, you give yourself another once over in the full length mirror that sits next to your vanity. A shimmering, pale gold, the evening gown that flows over your figure was hand-selected by you for this very event. For some reason, you’re having a hard time rediscovering the magic you’d felt trying it on in the showroom here in the soft, ambient light of your bedroom. 
Objectively, you’re sure you must look good. The compliments the store attendants had given you were more than just customary, and gold has always been your color. Still, a slew of sudden uncertainties simmer in your gut. Is the slight sparkle too garish? Does the gold wash you out? Your worries feel too big for your bedroom, at too stark an opposition with the peaceful ambience as soft, instrumental music plays from your speaker.
But this particular Saturday evening has its ways of making you feel jumbled where you’d typically be steadfast. Insecure where you’d usually find confidence.  
It’s true that your mother has always had a critical eye, and especially where you’re concerned. If you were to search deep enough, however, you’d find that she’s not the person you’re most concerned about making a lasting impression on tonight. 
With no small effort, you resist the urge to smooth out invisible wrinkles in the bodice of your dress. A nervous habit more than anything, it’s only exacerbated by the way your phone is still devoid of notifications. The clock on your nightstand is a reminder that your date for the evening should be here any minute, should be sending a message as confirmation of his arrival at your apartment. But your phone is still silent, even as the hour of the fundraiser draws nearer and nearer. 
Maybe this was a terrible mistake, you think, a new bout of uncertainties beginning to brew. It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Trust him to be just as flakey as his brother, with absolutely no regard for previous commitments or anyone else’s time. It’s just your luck that you get stood up again, this time by the other Sim. 
You're in the middle of disguising your fears and distracting yourself by cursing him and his future bloodline when your phone finally pings with an incoming notification. Well, you think, grabbing your coat, feeling a bit ridiculous for the slight overreaction, you’ll have to look into removing generational curses when you have the time.
For now, you settle with pulling on your heels for the evening, ignoring the way you feel a bit wobbly despite the fact that you’ve walked in far worse. Locking your apartment behind you and striking a slightly unsteady pace towards the elevator down the hall, you whisper a silent plea that tonight isn’t as much of a disaster as you’re afraid it could be. 
You watch as the numbers on the elevator screen tick lower and lower, a swirling mix of dread and excitement starting to swim in your stomach. When you finally reach the first floor, you’re surprised to see a familiar face waiting for you in the lobby. Something in you softens, albeit just slightly. You’d incorrectly assumed he would just wait for you in the comfort of his car and spent the whole ride down preparing to awkwardly check license plates in the near dark till you found the right one. 
An overwhelming sense of  self-consciousness returns to you under the brightness of the lobby lights. Unconsciously, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, wondering how long it will take him to notice you as you begin to walk towards him. You’ve only made it a few steps when it strikes you that he’s already distracted by something else. 
Across the lobby, Jake Sim is engaged in a conversation with your doorman. One that looks slightly heated, by your judgment. 
As you get closer, their words become more audible. 
“Like I just told you,” The exasperation in your date’s voice is apparent. “I’m here to see ___.”
And you really should make your presence known, should step in and divert the brewing argument, especially since you seem to be the subject of it. 
But then you look at Jake. Really look at him. 
Realistically, you knew he would come well-dressed. That had been a big part of your reason for choosing him. The Sunghoon soap fiasco aside, you already knew Jake Sim wasn’t someone who needed you to put together a PowerPoint presentation on formal event dress code. He didn’t need you to explain the concept of complementary colors or the advantages of getting a suit tailored. Didn’t need you to explain that Converse were not an appropriate show or that no, a bolo tie is not acceptable attire. 
Up until now, you were grateful for his pre existing knowledge. It saved you a lot of time and effort that you could use to focus on other things, like getting ready yourself. But it also meant that you were entirely unprepared to see him like this. 
Eyes scanning him again, the immaculate fit of his suit is undeniable, as is the way his dark hair is perfectly mussed. It’s styled enough to avoid withering comments from elderly attendees who have the habit of asking how people see with their hair covering their eyes. But it’s also messy in a way that looks intentional, in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, tug at it just a little, just to tease. 
It’s not just that he’s dressed well, though, despite the fact that he undeniably is. 
No, what has you freezing in your footsteps is the fact that Jake looks good. 
“And like I just told you, you’re not on her guest list. So I’m sorry, sir.” There is not a single trace of apology in your doorman’s voice. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you up. You’ll have to contact her and ask her to add you to her guest list.” You’re not sure how he manages to do it without losing any professionality, but your doorman makes it very clear that he thinks that will happen just as soon as hell freezes over. 
Jake’s shoulders tense in visible frustration. You have to suppress an actual sigh at the way fabric stretches over the muscle there. “Again, I’m not asking you to. Could you please just let her know that I’m here? She’s not answering her messages–”
“How odd.” The sarcasm is unmistakable. 
Getting a little desperate, Jake ignores the slight and continues anyway. “And we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so–”
From here, you can see the way his features start to twist in panic. It’s sobering enough to snap you out of your trance.
Cutting in, you make your presence known. “It’s okay,” you tell your doorman first. “I know him.” Then, you turn to Jake, putting on an award-worthy performance of false nonchalance when you explain, “Sorry I didn’t respond to your message. I was just on my way down.”
You watch as some of the tension drains from his features. “That’s alright,” Jake concedes easily. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t late.”
A funny feeling, a new one, stirs again. Something in you softens. “I appreciate that.” 
You can’t help the way you take another look at him. At his suit, his hair, his face. At him, at all of it. 
Mistaking your gaze for scrutiny, he asks, a bit self-consciously, “What do you think? Will your mother approve?”
She will. There’s no doubt in your mind. But you’re not looking at him through her eyes when you tell him, “Yeah, you look good. Really good.”
The last part probably wasn’t necessary, but the way he flushes makes it almost worth it. Casting your eyes downward in an effort to hide a smile, you notice a detail that you missed earlier. 
Jewelry. Gold jewelry. A handful of rings on his fingers and a delicate bracelet on his left wrist.  
Suddenly, his message from last night makes a little more sense.
Jake [9:02 pm]: What color is your dress for tomorrow?
You [9:08 pm]: Gold. Don’t worry about trying to match. A black suit will be just fine. 
Now, you’re grateful he didn’t fully listen to you, touched that he even bothered to ask.  
Across from you, Jake is suddenly having a bit of a hard time breathing. The earlier near-fiasco with your doorman all but forgotten, you’re still admiring his bracelet as his eyes scan the length of you, throat bobbing by the time his gaze makes its way back up to your face. 
“You, uh,” he coughs. “You look nice too.”
“Thank you.” You miss the way his gaze wanders, can’t seem to find a place to land that won’t dust the tops of his cheekbones an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ve been looking forward to wearing this dress forever.”
And it is a nice dress, Jake thinks, but he’s not sure how to tell you that’s not what he meant. 
Eyes finally landing on your feet, or rather, on the stilettos you’re wearing, he frowns. “I had to park kind of far away.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll pull the car around front.”
“Okay.” Something in you melts a bit at his consideration, at the fact that he even noticed. “Thank you.”
And it is nice, you think, to not be beginning the evening with your feet already sore. To have someone pick up on the little things, even if he’s being compensated for it in the form of half-price tutoring.
Sliding into the passenger seat, you try not to sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl when he opens the door for you, when he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he reverses the car out of its parking spot. Get it together, you think. You’ve turned up your nose at far more obvious attempts at wooing you, and it’s not like Jake is here with you out of his own volition. The thought is surprisingly disappointing, as he adjusts the stereo, soft music filling the silence.
The drive passes like that, in a quiet that’s only uncomfortable if you look at it too close. Eventually, the soft melodies filtering through the stereo become a pleasant sort of background noise as you watch the world blur outside the window. 
It would be smart, probably, to sort out your story for the evening and put together something coherent for when the two of you are inevitably asked invasive questions, but you can’t bring yourself to be the one to disturb the peace. 
So when you arrive at the fundraiser a handful of minutes later, you just have to hope that the image the two of you strike together will be enough to stave off any unwanted questions for the time being. 
Again, Jake opens your car door for you, offers a steadying hand as you step out of it. And when he gives you his arm as you enter through the front door of the venue, you take it, wrapping your fingers around his elbow. Pausing just outside the entrance, you watch as he takes a deep breath.  
“Ready?” You’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself. 
Jake answers for the both of you. “Let’s do this.”
Walking through the lobby, you hand your jackets to the coat check attendant before entering the ballroom where the fundraiser is held. Despite your general distaste for this evening and everything it entails – you sneak a glance at your partner in crime. Well, mostly everything – you can’t help but admire the space around you.
Decorated immaculately down to every last element, your mother truly doesn’t spare any expense or detail when it comes to throwing parties. And like always, she somehow manages to have a sharp eye on everything and everyone, no matter how chaotic or busy. You’ve hardly taken two steps inside the ballroom when she finds you, approaches you will all the grace of a panther stalking its prey. 
Pulling you in for a quick hug, the warm greeting she gives you is more for the benefit of onlookers than for you. And it forces you to remove your hand from Jake’s arm.
Looking over your shoulder, her voice is sickeningly saccharine. “And this must be James,” she beams, making eye contact with the wrong brother. Directing her attention to him, she gushes, “My daughter has told me wonderful things about you.”
Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. Jake stifles a laugh, expertly turns it into a cough. 
Really? You think. She did all that digging on James’ so-called turtle philanthropy but never bothered to pull up a picture of the guy? And you mean, standard genetic similarities aside, it’s not like the two of them look that much alike.
“Actually, mom,” you spare him the expense of having to correct her mistake, “this is Jake Sim. James’ brother. We go to school together.”
“Oh,” her eyebrows fall at the slip, no doubt an unforgivable social faux pas in her mind. “You never filled out the RSVP form, sweetie,” she somehow makes the term of endearment sound like a curse, “so I wasn’t sure who you’d be bringing.” Trust her to find a way to make her mistake your fault. 
Turning back to your date, she tries to remedy her mistake. “Jake, then.” She offers him a smile so forced you’re surprised her cheeks aren’t aching. Looking back at you, she fishes, “And he’s your…?”
Her dangling bait goes untouched. “He’s my plus-one.” It’s an intentional choice of words on your part. In your mind, it’s a neutral enough term that will hopefully let you navigate the evening without too many rumors or invasive questions about your personal life from people you only speak to out of reluctant obligation.  
Jake is less used to the way your mother tends to poke and prod, the way she likes to examine the superficial details of your life with a microscope and make sure she can frame them in a way that will be pleasing for public perception. The way she doesn’t ask about your love life because it’s of any genuine interest to her, but because she wants sole control of the rumor mill’s production. 
Next to you, he stiffens, feels as though he’s already failed some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking, wasn’t given any materials to study for. 
There’s a lot to be said, probably, about the way you pick up on his discomfort so easily. The way your hand returns to the crook of his elbow wordlessly and gives a single, gentle squeeze. Reassuring him, putting his nerves at ease, as you begin to navigate your way out of this conversation. 
“We’d better find our seats,” you tell your mother. The only reason Jake can identify the icy edge hiding in the superficial sweetness of your voice is because he’s been on the receiving end of it. On multiple occasions. Directed at someone else, he finds it almost amusing. “Wouldn't want to miss anything.”
“Of course,” your mother concedes, but there’s an undertone there. Jake can tell that there’s a war being waged here, battles and skirmishes in subtext and stilted pauses. He’s no stranger to the way high society likes to wrap up insults in niceties and skirt around delicate topics, but his own family has never been anything but blunt when it comes to their distaste for him and his choices. 
He’s still not entirely sure what he just witnessed, but you’re dragging him by his arm to find your assigned table before he can sort through the offending slights and put on armor that may be of any use to you. 
Carefully arranged, the maze of tables is easy enough to navigate. Each seat has a white place card in front of it, embossed with a shimmery golden script that matches your dress and holds the name of the guest who’s been assigned to sit there. 
You drag Jake past a flurry of names and attendees he half recognizes, stopping only to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Jake before you continue on your mission. After another minute of searching, you find your name at a table a few rows out from the far wall. Rolling your eyes, you can practically hear your mother’s reasoning: Not too close to the wall. Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m trying to hide her. But certainly not anywhere near the center of the room, in case she falls into that pesky habit of being an awful embarrassment.  
Standing behind your chair, your eyes find the place card stationed in front of the seat next to yours at the same time Jake’s do. 
“Oh my god.” The exasperation is apparent, even though your words are barely audible where you mutter them under your breath. 
Because of course this hasn’t already been enough of a train wreck. Because of course the place card next to yours doesn’t have Jake’s name on it. Nope, embossed in the same shimmery gold is the name of another person entirely. 
James Sim. 
You turn to your date, apologetic. “God, I’m sorry. I really didn’t fill out the RSVP form, but I didn’t think she’d just assume…”
“It’s okay.” Jake gives you some grace. “Really, it wouldn’t be the first time.” And all things considered, he kind of is in his brother’s seat tonight. Attending an event that’s better suited for the future head of the company than his forgotten younger brother. Accompanying the girl that public opinion surely dictates would be a better match for him. 
Still, you frown. Reaching for the small clutch that sits against your hip, you rummage for a moment before pulling out a black permanent marker. 
Jake glances at you sideways.Your bag of the evening is tiny, barely even big enough to hold your phone. He’s surprised you managed to fit the marker in there, much less prioritize it enough to bring it with you. “You carry that thing around with you all the time?”
You shrug. “Never know when you’ll need to do some DIY vandalism.”
It would be a lie if he said something in him doesn’t soften, just a bit, when he watches you reach for the place card in front of his seat and put a giant, bold X over his brother’s name. 
Your handwriting is no match for the computer-generated script, but Jake still likes the place card a little better when you’re done with it, likes the way his name looks next to yours when you set it back on the table, alterations completed. 
“There,” you say, looking entirely too satisfied with your handiwork. “All better.” This time, you slide down into your seat before Jake has the chance to pull it out for you. Turning to him as he tentatively takes the seat next to you, he finds a small frown on your lips. “Wait,” you pause, realization written across your features. “Your brother isn’t coming, right?”
Jake shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. He has no reason to come. My parents are on a business trip, so they won’t be here either. And that also probably means he’s more swamped than usual at the office.”
Nodding, you take a sip of champagne. “Good.” Pausing, your lips quirk. “Although it would be kind of funny if he–”
“I think you’re in my seat.” The sudden interruption is flat, leaves no room for arguments. 
Startled, the two of you spin in your chairs. 
James Sim, despite his brother’s predictions, is in fact not otherwise occupied at his office. Instead, he stands directly behind his younger sibling, strikes an imposing figure where his shadow blocks the chandelier light behind him and extends over his brother and his altered place card. 
Eyes flaming, he looks at where his name has been crossed out. Replaced. 
Next to Jake, you remain silent, figure that you’ll let Jake handle this one the way he let you handle your mother. Far be it from you to step in on a family matter.
But then you notice the way Jake shrinks a little in his seat, hides a little further in his brother’s shadow. Reaches for the place card like he wishes he could take it back.
Sliding your gaze back to your least favorite Sim sibling, your voice is even, albeit icy, when you point out the obvious, “It’s not actually. Can’t you read?” Jake’s hand stops in its tracks, falls back to his lap.
A quick look your way is the only indication James even hears you. Instead, he continues his one-sided conversation with his brother, a barely controlled sort of fury crossing over his expression. “Hm,” he muses, glancing between the two of you. “Sure seems like you two are awfully close.” Casting an accusatory glare at Jake, he adds, “That’s funny. I could have sworn you said you barely knew her.”
Her. You’re sitting right there, and you don’t even get a name. 
It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake either. And it turns out to be just what he needs to find his voice. You’re almost proud of the sarcasm he manages to muster when he counters, “Yeah, well, this funny thing happens when you spend time together. You actually get to know each other.” Straightening his spine, there’s an unmistakable edge in his voice when he adds, “You know, when you actually bother to show up, that is.”
You hide a laugh behind your hand, albeit not very well. Glancing at Jake, a feeling swells in your chest that you can only identify as pride. You didn’t know he had it in him. 
Reassessing his strategy, James turns to you, forcing a nonchalance that is entirely contradicted by the way his cheeks are rapidly reddening. “Actually, ___,” he tries, acting as if the last thirty seconds faded out of existence at his will. “I was hoping to speak to you about something. I’d love to get you a drink if you–”
“Actually,” Jake cuts in, doubling down. “We already have drinks.” Behind you on the table, the two near full glasses of champagne are undeniable evidence. The laugh that spills out of you this time is impossible to hide. Yeah, you decide, between the two of them, you definitely hate James more. Entirely amused, the only thing you wish you had is a bowl of popcorn as you root for the underdog. Not that he needs it. Much to your satisfaction, he’s been landing his punches well. 
The giggle dies on your lips, though, when you feel the warmth of another hand suddenly cover the top of yours where it rests on your thigh. Gaze flaming, James follows the movement. Startled, your eyes fly to Jake. The only view you’re offered is of his profile as he keeps his gaze trained on his brother, the challenge in his features unmistakable. 
The only consolation he offers for your sudden shock is a small, reassuring squeeze against your knuckles. 
And then he says, “And I’d like to keep my girlfriend right here, actually.” At that, he does finally turn to you, eyes pleading, gaze imploring when he seeks your permission. Even though they’re performative in nature, his words aren’t solely for James’ benefit. “If that’s alright with you, that is.”
Girlfriend.
You were perfectly happy in the role of the observer, but now Jake has dragged you into the spotlight. Even though it pains you, you know you can’t leave him hanging. Not when that would mean a sure victory for his dickhead of a brother. 
Girlfriend. The word echoes in your head, has you feeling dizzy.
“Of course,” you return hollowly, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice over the sudden rushing in your ears. “Boyfriend.”
When you smile at him, you make sure it looks sickeningly sweet enough to deter James. Your eyes, however, flash with a warning only Jake can read. 
“You’re dating?” James can’t hide his shock, and his outrage is just as obvious. 
“Yep,” Jake passes you a panicked look. But you don’t need it, don’t need his convincing. You’ve already dug yourself a deep enough hole. Trying to climb out now would only mean everything crumbles. 
“Sure are,” you confirm with a tight smile. Turning back to Jake, you add, “Actually, sweetie, I need to talk to you about, uh…” you scramble for a moment. Finish vaguely with, “that thing.” 
“Right.” Jake picks up on the threat in your eyes seamlessly, knows there’s only one acceptable response. “That thing,” he echoes. 
“Yeah, so,” you turn back to James, barely acknowledging him as you start to stand. “We’re gonna step out for a minute.”
Jake is all but putty in your hands as you switch the positioning of your grip so that the hand that was resting on yours is now encased firmly between your fingers. 
“See you later,” are Jake’s breathless parting words to his brother. 
“Hopefully not, though,” you alter. 
And then you’re dragging him back through the crowd towards the exit, and it’s all Jake can do to not run into the other guests or knock over the delicately balanced trays of hors d’oeuvres waiters carry throughout the room. He’s at your mercy all the way through the double doors of the ballroom, and you pause only briefly to determine which hallway is less likely to have people in it before deciding on the one to the right, towing him along behind you.
Once you’re far enough away from unwanted eyes and ears, you start wiggling every door knob you come across, growing visibly more frustrated until you finally find an unlocked one. Huffing, you push Jake into the spare storage closet first. Following him in, you close the door behind you. 
The sudden change in space puts you in close proximity. Your nose is only a handful of inches away from his when you start laying out accusations. 
“What the hell?” With the same hand than just dragged him on a half marathon, you shove at his chest. “Boyfriend?” You have half a mind to grab the broom standing next to you and start whacking him with it. 
“I’m sorry!” Jake holds his hands up defensively. He doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing every cleaning tool around you, no doubt deciding which would make the most effective weapon. “I panicked, okay? I just hate that smug little look he gets on his face–”
“Well you’re about to be seeing ‘that smug little look’ a lot more once he calls your bluff!” you half-shout, trying to convey your anger without alerting anyone to your presence.“The timeline barely lines up to begin with. It’s only been what, a few weeks since I was supposed to go on a date with him? And that’s not to mention the fact that there won’t be anyone to corroborate our story, because we don’t spend any time together, since, y’know, we’re not dating.”
Jake begs to differ. You’ve invaded more than one of his Wednesday night statistics study sessions. 
But before he can point this out, you’re continuing. “Which means you’re gonna have to come up with some sort of believable explanation for why we break up after, like, three days.”
“Ugh.” Jake drags an open palm down his face. He hates to admit it, but you do have a point there. 
Fingers running through his hair, his sudden stress is apparent. And you’re not trying to send him to an early grave, but would it have killed him to think before he spoke? Consider the consequences of starting the exact kind of rumor you’ve been hoping to dodge all evening? You get that his brother is not exactly an easy person to get along with, but was the short-lived victory really worth the potential fallout? 
Across from you, Jake seems to be having the same realizations. A million thoughts whirring through his brain, he’s not sure where to place his focus. 
After a moment, he settles on optimism. “Look, I think it will be fine.” The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself he believes it. “James has been up to his ass in company stuff since the second he graduated, so it’s not like he has extra time to check up on us or anything.” And even if he did, James would have no way of knowing who to ask. Jake has the sneaking suspicion his older brother couldn’t name a single one of his friends if his life depended on it. He would have no idea who to track down to corroborate your so-called romance. 
“We won’t have to do anything,” Jake reasons. “I’ll just mention you in passing for the next few weeks if he happens to ask.” Even that should be simple enough. After all, Jake seriously doubts he will. “And by the time the holidays roll around, I can just say things fizzled naturally.” Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mutual, and your pride and his both remain intact. “No big deal.” 
Across from him, you weigh his words. It makes sense, yes, but there’s something starting to swirl in your gut that you don’t like. It feels a little too much like dread, like trepidation. Jake can read all of the uncertainty written across your face when you tell him, “I still don’t like it. My mother and your brother were both here tonight and already got different stories from us. This could get messy really quickly. I mean, what if our families start talking–”
“They won’t.” Jake shakes his head. “Your mom thinks I’m just a plus-one, and when my name comes up in James and my father’s conversations, it isn’t to discuss the ins and outs of my dating life.” Of this, at least, Jake is sure. His father couldn’t care less who he dates, as long as it’s not a liability to him, to the company. “Besides, we're university students.” Jake tries to lighten the mood, clear some of the tension. “Twenty-one and immature and all that.” For a moment, Jake imagines what life would feel like if that’s truly all he was, if that’s the only thing he got to be. No added pressure of a notorious last name and a reputation to maintain. Tucking that thought to the back of his mind, he decides he’ll mourn it later. “A short-lived relationship with a story that doesn’t quite add up is practically a right of passage. Not something to be suspicious of.” 
You remain silent for a moment, but your hand doesn’t get any closer to the broom.
“Okay.” Some of the tension seeps out of your shoulders as you turn his reasoning over in your brain, nodding as his logic starts to piece together. “Okay,” you reiterate. You still don’t like it, but he’s right about one thing: it is the best option you have. 
After all, there’s no way in hell you’re about to go tell your mother that your plus-one is actually your secret boyfriend, and you hate to admit it, but James’ little smirk is incredibly agitating. And it will all blow over, you’re sure. Like Jake said, James and your mother have no real reason to talk, and if Jake is convinced that his brother won’t be spreading this particular rumor, you’ll just have to believe him for the time being. 
Letting him out of the closet first, you only imitate hitting him upside the back of the head once before you catch up to him, linking arms again before reentering the ballroom. 
As the evening goes on, your worry starts to subside. Thankfully, every other part of the night goes perfectly to plan, even if you do have to force yourself to laugh a little too hard at one of Jake’s awful jokes when you catch James watching the two of you. The second glass of champagne you down helps, if nothing else. 
Exactly as you predicted, after two and a half hours have passed, you and Jake are sneaking out the back exit, tiptoeing to his car as the fourth speaker of the evening continues their droning speech inside the event. Your mother is none the wiser to your early departure, and you hope it’s the first in a series of victories for the evening. 
When Jake drops you off just outside the front doors of your apartment building, his smile is almost reassuring enough to put that lingering sense of unease to rest where it still sits in your gut. 
Makeup removed, hair washed, and evening gown traded for pajamas, sleep is slow to find you a handful of hours later. Eventually, though, it does, and your rest is undisturbed, dreamless. 
The next morning, with nothing but the pastel tones of sunrise and the sound of his brewing coffee maker to keep him company, Jake Sim stares at the message on his phone in abject horror. 
Mom [7:32 am]: I can’t believe I had to find out from your brother! Family dinner next weekend at our place. Bring your girlfriend. :) 
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
CONTINUED IN PART 2
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
note: thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. part two still needs some love, and I'm hoping to have it out around this same time next week. I'll announce for sure when I have a release date & time. as always, I love hearing any thoughts/comments/screaming you may have. happy reading!
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heesdreamer · 4 months
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PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader
SUMMARY ➩ Four years after he disappeared from your life your childhood friend and love returns back to town completely changed.
WARNINGS ➩ Heeseung is an addict and not a super amazing person, broken people with bad communication skills, rough smut, like quick hate sex basically. Super angst but I hope it’s still a good read lol… based in the late 90s early 2000s
WC ➩ 11k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ A bit nervous to be posting here again after five months since I’m pretty rusty but hopefully you’ll take it easy on me lol. No part two for this and it’s an open ending (my favorite) so infer what you’d like but feel free to ask me anything about the story or the characters! Hope it’s okay and I missed you guys. NOT PROOFREAD
Summer was pretty much the constant season where you grew up outside of the few weeks the sun disappeared and the rain turned the beaches grey.
You appreciated the break every year considering it just made the heat coming back feel ten times better, that first day being able to run into the ocean again always feeling like your towns personal version of new year.
Let the salt water wash away your sins and the tears that had long dried on your sun kissed cheeks.
Your town had been spared from tourist for most of your childhood even though it’s definitely gained traction during more recent years if the alarming amount of people outside the local diners said anything.
The locals didn’t mind as long as they cleaned up their empty bottles of sunscreen from the public beaches and didn’t interfere with the abundance of native wild life.
You definitely didn’t mind considering you were on your sixth year working at the smoothie shop just a block away from the most popular beach and you enjoyed suckering large families out of large tips by giving them basic fun facts about the area they could use for their vacation.
It was the least you could do as somebody who lived in a permanent one.
This years version of those rainy few weeks came in the suddenly deliverance of news you’d never even imagined hearing let alone prepared yourself to deal with.
“Hey.” Jake sounded out of breath as he crashed through the flimsy door of the smoothie shop, hair wet from either just leaving the beach where he worked as a lifeguard or from the slight drizzle that had started to pick up.
“Hey, don’t get my floor wet. Assuming you’re off this week?” You were folding cleaning rags in preparation for closing up the shop for the next few days due to the news channel continuously warning the locals of a storm coming.
Jake rolled his eyes at your light scolding but you noticed that he did avoid sitting on the stools or touching anything he could get his wetness on.
“Oh so it’s your floor now?” He was cocking an eyebrow up as he looked at you and now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a light smile on your face at the teasing.
You’d know Jake the same amount of time you had known pretty much anybody living in the town which was basically the entire sum of your life. All the kids went to the same small school district and everyone’s parents knew each other to some capacity so there’d never been a time you didn’t know him and your other friends.
“So…” Your extensive knowledge of him made it even more obvious that he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear, his tone changing to the same one he used whenever he had to let the beach goers know the waters weren’t safe. “He’s back in town.”
The mood in the small shop changed immediately and you tensed up from where you were still folding the rags, placing the one you were working on back down onto the counter and squeezing it with your hand.
You noticed the rain picking up outside and it was almost ironic how it seemed to match your mood.
“Oh.” That was all you could manage to say and Jake dropped his shoulders in defeat at your dull reaction. “No Jakey thanks for telling me that’s.. it’s nice to have a heads up.”
Neither one of you spoke for a few seconds and you let the sound of the wind whipping around the thin metal panels of the roof distract you just enough to stop you from immediately bombarding him with questions. You didn’t need him to know how much you cared even though you knew he already did.
“Did- did you see him?”
“Saw his mom at the market on my lunch break.” He was watching you so intensely that it was starting to annoy you. He looked like he was waiting for you to explode and you were considering giving him what he wanted just so he’d stop staring like that. “They’re like.. well he’s back in the old house so I’m assuming that means… yeah.”
He was awkward in his delivery but you understood exactly what he meant, your old friend wasn’t just back in town for a vacation or a trip down memory lane but instead he was back for at least the near future.
Your head hung low as you tried your best to not react outwardly but the humorless scoff left your mouth before you could stop it and you heard Jake sigh near the door.
Luck was at least in your favor considering the news was right and the rain didn’t stop for another four days meaning you and the boys didn’t have work and there was no chance of you running into the exact person you wanted to avoid.
You spent your days at Sunghoon’s house which was on the other side of town from where you and the rest of your friends lived.
Sunghoon had been the last person to join your small group and he almost hadn’t been accepted considering he didn’t go to the same school and actually didn’t live there at all. His father was beyond wealthy and owned a nice property up on the hill, a place you and your friends used to sit on the beach and stare at while daydreaming about living there.
He came down every winter from the city so him and his dad could escape the cold and icy roads and then he’d leave again once the temperature picked up.
Naturally this made him a bit of an outcast compared to the rest of you who grew up together and spent nearly every single day hanging out and playing on the beaches but you liked him nonetheless.
He wasn’t as spoiled as you figured he probably could have been and if anything he was actually pretty sheepish whenever someone mentioned how much money he constantly had at his disposal.
You’d all tease him until he bought you snacks and ice cream in bulk just to get you off his back, a silent peace offering.
An even more silent ‘I’m sorry you’re poor and I’m not’.
Once you all got older and his dad got too tired to continue the travel back and forth just to avoid some snow, Sunghoon would come by himself just to see you all and you imagined it was any day now before he decided to stay for good.
The image from their hillside property was breathtaking even through the storm, floor to ceiling windows that you’d perch yourself on while the others slept. It had a perfect view of the biggest beach and the mountains behind it and despite growing up with it as your backdrop, you never got used to it.
“Can’t sleep?” Riki’s voice was echoing through the nearly empty living room, a feat of Sunghoon’s dad practically moving out.
You turned your head to see him shuffling towards you in his pajamas with an open bottle of wine in his hands. He was taking a swig before nudging your leg with his hand so you would move it and he could sit down beside you with a groan.
His back was against the other side of the windowsill and your legs were crossing over his in a mirror image but he looked just as exhausted as you figured you did and it was sort of comforting to know you weren’t the only one handling this bad.
“When do I ever sleep?” Your hand was sticking out as you spoke and he took one more sip of the wine before handing the bottle over to you.
Your face pulled into a grimace at the sour taste and he laughed softly at the reaction before leaning forward to snatch it back and keep it away from you. You looked back out the window but you could feel him staring at you now and you sighed.
Riki had been around just as long as Jake had but he was also your neighbor which added another layer of familiarity. There was no hiding your family issues with him like you attempted with the others because he was one window away and often the person you ran to when things got too hard.
“Saw him in town you know, before we headed up here.” He was starting off in a whisper like he was testing the waters and you were getting sick of people treating you like a loose canon when it came to this. “He looks different.”
“Obviously. He was a kid last time we saw him and he’s what, 20 now?” You phrased it like you weren’t too sure but both of you were aware that you knew his exact age. You’d never forgotten his birthday and your mood soured every year on that day for the past four times it cycled past.
“21.” Riki clarified anyways and you appreciated that you both pretended you’d be able to make that mistake. “And I don’t just mean he grew up I mean he looks terrible.”
Your stomach turned uncomfortably as graphic images made their way into your mind and you squeezed your eyes tight at the thought of him and what he could possibly look like now.
“Why are you telling me this Riki?” You sounded hurt and lost and you felt his leg nudging yours again like he was either trying to comfort you or snap you out of the tense state you’d fallen into. You opened your eyes and stared at him and the way the moonlight highlighted the side of his face.
“I told him I’d meet him for lunch once the storm cleared up.” He said it slowly and that made it that much easier for you to hear the overwhelming guilt in his voice. “I’d like for you to be there. I’m asking you to be there.”
Your face fell flat but he didn’t stop looking at you as he dropped the bomb and you almost wanted to shy away from the intense gaze just waiting for you to show that you cared.
“You can’t ask me that.” It came out as a whisper and you hated how weak you sounded at just the idea of seeing him.
“But I am.”
Two days later the clouds were gone like they’d never been there and the unrelenting heat was building back up at full force. You all returned down from the hillside property with raging hangovers and a suffocating promise.
You tried to ignore your phone ringing on the wall because you knew who it was, or at least could guess out of three names but it was pointless considering Riki was right next door and the ringing soon turned to knocks at your window.
So you told yourself you agreed to the lunch because you were sick of being harassed about it and it was not because you needed to see him for yourself.
If anything this was your chance to prove you didn’t care about him and you just had never felt that level of loss before. It wouldn’t kill you to hear his voice and listen to the way it’s changed over the lost time and you’d be able to get through the meal with a few awkward conversations before getting to go back to your regular life.
You were immediately proven wrong the second you pushed into the restaurant and you would have stopped in your tracks if it wasn’t for Riki’s guiding hand on your lower back.
He worked at this restaurant and it was directly on the shore of the beach so despite it being busy post storm he was easily maneuvering you through it towards the table.
You stayed back a few feet as the boy stood up and went to greet your other friends, a few awkward seconds passing like they didn’t know wether to shake hands or hug before Jake was moving forward and pulling the older boy into a tight embrace.
Sunghoon was doing the same and rubbing the back of his head comfortably before Riki gave him a familiar pat on the shoulder due to the fact they’d already gone through the first encounter nerves.
The three boys immediately climbed into the booth and started to flip through the menus to give you some privacy even though you all knew they’d eaten the same things here since they were kids and knew every dish like the back of their hand.
You still appreciated the gesture considering the second he looked at you your heart clenched painfully and you suddenly felt like you were 17 again.
“Hey y/n.” His voice was low as he spoke but you could still hear it enough to notice you barely recognized it. It had dropped a few octaves and it was painfully raspy.
“You look like shit Hee.” Your blunt words and the use of the familiar nickname made him scoff out a laugh and he nodded his head in agreement to your insult.
He truly did even though you were just trying to tease him and loosen the atmosphere. He was ten shades paler than the rest of you but you had a feeling it wasn’t due to him not being around the sun all the time anymore. He looked nearly sickly and your stomach turned the more you saw the signs of that being true.
His eyes looked tired and sad but what was the worst change was how skinny he was. He’d always been thin but now he was towering over you and still looking like a strong wave could take him out.
He sniffed uncomfortably because of your intense gaze and your eyes honed in on his prominent wrist bone and the way he flicked at his nostril.
Your eyebrows furrowed at the action and he immediately lowered his arm like he’d just been caught doing something, confirming your belief.
The silence was awkward but luckily one of Riki’s coworkers was approaching to get your drinks and you scooted past the tall boy so you could slide in the booth besides Sunghoon.
It was unusual for you to be nearly silent and not engaging in the conversation but you couldn’t really handle trying to fumble your way through acting like everything was normal like the others were.
You started to wonder if they really did think it was just a normal meal while catching up with a childhood friend.
It blew your mind to consider that maybe they didn’t see the way Heeseung was constantly bouncing his knee and picking apart his napkin or the fact he’d barely taken a bite of food the entire time. Did they not see his fidgeting eyes and the fact he looked sick every glance he took towards your direction.
The boys did their best to fill the silence without bringing up anything that would let Heeseung know how much he’d missed out on and soon enough everyone was having to go back to work.
You’d gotten the day off since the storm had drastically killed off the tourist that make up 90% of your daily customers and you could tell the boy across from you felt a bit lost when everyone stated their plans for the rest of the day.
“Did you maybe want to go to the beach with me?” You had no idea why you were inviting him but by the time you noticed the shocked look on your friends faces, it was too late and the offer was hanging heavily in the air.
He looked around like he wasn’t quite sure you were talking to him and his eyes were a little more alert when he finally turned back to face you.
“Uh yeah sure.”
Riki gave you a cautious look as you left and Sunghoon parted you with a swift kiss on the cheek and another firm hug for Heeseung. Jake was heading to the same place as you for his shift as a lifeguard so it made the walk down the street a little less awkward.
The roles reversed from lunch and now it was Heeseung’s turn to fall silent while you and Jake softly joked and made casual commentary on the damage the storm had did. You would have forgotten he was there at all if not for his constantly sniffling and the fact his presence shifted your entire atmosphere.
“Be safe yeah?” You weren’t sure if it was meant to have a double meaning but Jake made your stomach turn as he left your side to head to the watch tower.
Heeseung was clearing his throat beside you but you ignored him in favor of finding an umbrella to sit near, not quite under so you could still feel the sun on your skin. He opted for sitting directly under the shade and you were brought back to when you were kids and he was always the last one inside.
He was impossible to tame and get out of the water even long after the sun set and the parents began to call you all home but he couldn’t be more different now.
Memories of his freckled tan face smiling at you, eyes squinted against the bright sky with his hand above his eyebrows to try and block it so he could see you better. His laugh always the loudest sound over the crashing waves and the way it felt when he’d wrap his arms around you to throw you into the water.
Now he was practically curling in on himself to avoid the rays and he looked almost pained at the sounds of the kids playing and splashing around.
It was hard to believe this was the same boy who had you convinced there was salt water in his veins.
“Since when are you getting high?”
You didn’t sound at all accusatory in your question, just plainly asking for an answer to the obvious but he immediately tensed up and sent a glare that would have you believing you’d gotten it wrong if it wasn’t for the embarrassment in his eyes.
He took a few seconds to answer but you extended your thin patience towards him and waited.
“I’m not anymore.” He had a funny tone to his that almost sounded like he was saying an inside joke, something you clearly didn’t understand and your face furrowed. “That’s why I’m here actually.”
Your mouth was parting in realization and you couldn’t help the bitter laugh that slipped out of you. You felt overwhelmingly stupid in that moment but it wasn’t necessarily your fault for not assuming the worst about his intentions.
“Here I thought you were back because you actually missed us. Didn’t realize this was your rehab.” He didn’t look amused anymore and you were struck by how much you wanted to see him smile at you again.
He nodded and looked away from you and that was enough for you to realize the conversation was over.
four years ago
You’d never been anywhere else but you had a hard time believing any other place could measure up to what you were experiencing now.
The sounds of your lifelong friends splashing each other and laughing as they took unexpected blows from the waves, bodies crashing through the surface of the water and pushing back through with groans of playful annoyance.
You knew the sun was setting soon which meant the head lifeguard (who happened to be jake’s older brother) was going to usher you all back home and away from the water but you would have given anything for the moment to freeze.
Even if your butt was damp from the wet sand you were sitting on and you were starting to shiver from the lack of clothes paired with the disappearing heat.
You watched as another head popped out of the water before standing to his full height and glancing around like he was searching for something. His gaze stopped on you and a bright smile broke out on his face at the sight of you sitting on the beach and observing the scene.
It made you feel warm to see him brush off your friends and push through the water so he could get over to you, shaking his head to semi dry his hair and laughing when you squealed at the sudden wetness hitting you.
“You cold?” He was flopping down onto the sand next to you and his cold skin brushed yours for a second before you flinched away and groaned.
“Yeah but I think Jaeyun’s brother is gonna make us leave any second anyways.” You were scrunching your nose up as you looked over at him and he smiled up at you.
Heeseung always seemed to be smiling but especially in your direction.
You weren’t an idiot and you didn’t at all miss the fact that he was extra attached to you. You had a deeper bond than anybody else in the group and even though you weren’t exactly sure when the transition into something deeper happened, you were sure you both could feel it constantly bubbling under the surface.
It wasn’t something you felt like you needed to confess or say out loud officially because you had all the time in the world here with him.
“Come swim with us.” He was watching you as your hand reached over to swipe the drying sand off his forehead.
“Not happening Hee sorry.” You smiled when he groaned and rolled over onto his back, knowing you had made up your mind by the tone in your voice. “We can always swim tomorrow.”
Tomorrow never came because the next morning you were racing down to the Lee house with a plate of cinnamon rolls Riki’s mom had made and finding it almost completely empty.
Your heart had dropped into your stomach but you still slowly approached the familiar door and knocked against it softly.
Typically you didn’t even bother knocking considering you were there more than your own house but something was off and you suddenly felt like an intruder.
The sight of his grandma opening the door and giving you a pained expression when she saw it was you almost fully killed you and if that didn’t do it then the fact she softly whispered to you that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon definitely did.
It was hard not to grab her by the shoulders and demand she tell you where he had gone and it was even harder to hold in your sobs as you ran all the way back to the house next to yours, bursting into Riki’s living room and climbing into his bed to cry while you waited for him to get off work.
He’d barely understood you through your blubbering sobs and when he did he was joining you in the bed and falling into a hurt silence.
The hurt rippled through you for months until you gathered the courage to ask his grandma for his address so you could write him a letter.
She was clearly reluctant but she gave it to you anyways and you spent all week writing it and expressing to him how you felt, both for him and about the fact he had left without saying goodbye. You wished she’d turned you down when it got sent right back unopened and the same thing happened for the next twenty after that.
You kept writing them for two years even though they’d always make their way back to the post office and at the end of that summer, you finally put the pen down.
At some point during the third year you’d gotten a postcard that had no writing on it or even a signature. It was just a blank card with a photo of some cartoonish cherry blossoms and a small river.
You somehow knew it was from him without any confirmation and you wept like a baby in the middle of all the mailboxes, hugging it to your chest and swearing you’d never let yourself feel like that again. You almost sent it back to him like he’d done to you for so long but instead you stuffed it under your pillow and tried to not feel it’s weight every night you slept.
Now four years later he was suddenly everywhere again.
He’d started to work at the surfboard rental shop across from your own place and he was practically at every single hangout like nothing had changed.
Except everything had changed and he was such a jarringly different person that you almost felt like you were hanging out with the corpse of your old friend.
“We’ve gotta get you some sun man.” Jake was disguising his concerns with some light teasing one of the days you all made your way up to Sunghoon’s place but you all knew Heeseung and his current state was the constant elephant in the room.
“Yeah.” His noncommittal low mumbling was about the most you got out of him these days and you sighed from where you were laying on the couch.
His empty gaze landed on you when you were standing up and pushing Sunghoon’s legs off of you (much to his annoyance). You approached him and stuck your hand out in his direction just to be met with a raised eyebrow and no movement.
“Cmon let’s go.” You were firm in your words and shaking your hand slightly to urge him to take it in his before you got too impatient. He sighed at you but did exactly that and you pushed aside the warmth that spread you in favor of pulling him up so he was standing.
You were slightly thrown off by how close he ended up next to you so you took a step back while raking over his tall frame and clearing your throat.
“I’m sick of your moping.” You didn’t expect him to continue holding your hand after you pulled him up but you took advantage of the opportunity and started to tug him behind you as you walked towards the doors.
Heeseung stayed silent as you dragged him outside and down the long sandy steps that led down the hillside and onto the small private beach that the park family owned. You never hung out there much as kids considering you weren’t allowed to surf here and you preferred the large waves and active community of the public one but it would do for now.
“What are we doing?” He was finally speaking once you dropped his hand and turned to look at him.
“Going swimming obviously.” You were pulling your shirt over your head the second you finished speaking so you just barely saw his reaction to your hands grabbing the bottom hem.
It was long enough that you managed to watch his eyes widen and drop down to the sudden skin showing but he somehow was able to have a blank expression again by the time you got it off and tossed it onto the sand carelessly.
You’d turned to walk closer to the water but you stopped and looked over your shoulder when you realized he wasn’t following you anymore.
“Cmon.” Your thumbs pushed down the hem of your shorts to showcase the rest of your bikini and now you heard him scoff a laugh as the water touched your ankles.
The water was unusually cold from the few cloudy days you’d had but you were determined now to get him to have some fun and open up a little bit before he really started to bum the rest of you out.
You fought your smile when you heard light splashing behind you and when you finally turned around you were thrown off by the amount of pale skin you were seeing. Obviously you knew he’d have to take off his shirt to get in the water but you were mainly stuck on the changes to his body.
He’d clearly filled out, something you could have guessed from the height, and now he looked surprisingly strong unlike his lanky frame he had when you were younger. Outfit of his ribs slightly showing, he definitely had some muscle definition that you looked away from immediately.
Your eyes landed on what was even more jarring and he surprisingly didn’t shy away when you scanned over the bruising covering his stomach and sides.
You met his gaze for just a second and he just stood there with the light ripples hitting his belly button.
“Get into some trouble?” Your question was light and almost teasing so he had room to ignore you. You didn’t want to bombard him for answers especially since it wasn’t really your place anymore.
If this had been four years ago, you would have wrapped him up in your arms and demanded to know who possibly could have hurt him but that boy wasn’t here anymore. He definitely wasn’t the cold one standing in front of you.
“Something like that.” His response was as uncharacteristic as you expected it to be and you simply nodded your head before waiting for him to catch up to you.
He was up to his chest now in the water and you were starting to struggle to stay afloat which seemed to amuse him if the quirk of his lips told you anything.
“Isn’t this nice?” Your voice was quieter now and you almost face palmed at how nervous and unnatural you sounded.
Heeseung was just watching you like you were the one who had changed but there was something heavy in his eyes now. You almost flinched at the feeling of his warm leg brushing yours under the water once he was finally starting to relax and float a little but you managed to collect yourself.
He hummed in agreement but you could tell he was just doing it to give you the answer he knew you wanted to hear.
You wondered if the cold water felt good on his bruises or if you were just making him feel worse by trying to help.
“Surprised you didn’t bring the others.” He was talking again surprisingly and now he was fully floating on his back with his gaze set on the sky and the colors of the setting sun. “Since you and Sunghoon are so close now.”
The jealous tone of his voice was not something you were used to and you didn’t realize he could sound even less like himself until he proved you wrong.
Heeseung and you had always been each others number ones and he’d never had to doubt his position in your life before but it made you blood boiling mad that he had such an accusatory tone now like you’d done something wrong.
Did he expect you to sit around and mope forever, holding out hope that he’d maybe decide to return one day despite not even knowing where he’d gone?
“We’ve always been close Heeseung. We all are.” Your voice was stable despite how the opposite you felt and something unsaid was being heard loudly in your choice of words.
For the first time since he came back, you were blatantly excluding him from the group. None of you were teenagers anymore and you’d been through a decade of stories and experiences just in the last few years as you transitioned into adults.
Maybe the sight of him now, grown up and empty, wouldn’t have hurt so bad if you watched it happen slowly instead of all at once. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way at all and he would have been a totally different person with your influence.
You immediately felt guilty and gross for giving yourself that much credit.
“It’s different now though.” He seemed set in his idea that you and Sunghoon had some secret deeper bond and you didn’t even try to argue with him this time.
“You’re different.” The response you settled with was pretty petty and he seemed to agree judging by the way he scoffed but he was sitting up and moving a tad closer to you in the water.
“Yeah well you’re exactly the same.” He said it so simply that you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be an insult, compliment or simply just an observation. He was either calling you immature or making a callback to how your relationship used to be.
You figured it was the latter when his hand was brushing against your waist under the water.
“Not all of me.” Your voice had gotten lower now as you realized the mood was shifting to something you’d not experienced with him before.
You’d always found Heeseung attractive obviously but he was so young and you weren’t exactly the age either where you were thinking about him in this way. Sure, he’d been touchy back then with his hand in yours or an arm around your waist as you walked together but never with this look in his eye.
It felt wrong to have him shifting even closer to you, bare chest and his wet hair almost covering his eyes as he stared down due to your newfound height difference.
Mainly the wrong feeling came due to the fact that you barely knew him now and you didn’t want to get to know him like this. You wished it had happened naturally, your friendship had returned when he did and so did your comfortability and maybe eventually the love buried deep in your chest.
But you were so desperate to feel something from him, anything that might indicate he had once cared about you. So you didn’t push him away when he leaned down to kiss you.
His mouth was hot against yours and suddenly all of the teasing touches and heavy glances made a lot more sense.
He had a desperation you didn’t expect and your head was spinning by the time he was pulling you even closer by your waist and slotting his knee in between your legs under the water.
“Hee.” You breathed out his name as he licked into your mouth and he shushed you impatiently, not wanting to give you the chance to stop him before he’d even gotten to really have you.
You weren’t going to and your hips were rolling against his leg, the water hitting higher up on your stomach and making you gasp from the cold and how it splashed over your covered chest.
He seemed to notice considering he was impatiently pulling the fabric of your bikini top away from your skin and you moaned when his mouth was leaving yours in favor of hungrily connecting with your hard nipples. The warmth of his mouth made you spin and you held the back of his head against your chest.
His knee was rocking under you and you kept grinding yourself down on it, free hand wrapping around his back and feeling the muscles clench everytime he moved himself towards you.
“Hee.” you gasped out his name again and this time he atleast hummed in acknowledgement, big hands gripping your waist and forcing you to keep moving against him.
“Cmon y/n, stop fucking talking.” His mouth was back on yours and this time it was you who immediately licked into his closed lips, the sound of his low voice spurring you on even more.
He was lifting you out of the water and your legs wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall. You didn’t even realize he’d be strong enough to lift you but he seemed to have no problem as he started walking towards the shore and you rolled your hips into his hard on that you could now feel pressing against you.
Your mouth parted when you felt how hard he was already and he laid you gently down onto the sand before climbing ontop of you and kissing you again.
This time his body was covering you and you whined when his hips lowered down on yours.
He was sitting up for only a second so he could finish untying your bathing suit and tugging it off of you and you watched as his eyes locked hungrily on your bare chest while you panted heavily.
Your eyes were big and wanting as you stared up at him and the sight was almost too much so he went back to kissing you deeply.
His body was still just as wet as yours and the feeling of his hot skin warming up what the water had cooled was almost as addicting as the way he rolled his hips down slowly.
“Fuck y/n.” He was groaning into your neck and you inhaled at the way he was biting the skin and definitely leaving marks on you. “Used to be mine remember?”
You were shaking your head in disagreement but the way you were rocking your hips and holding onto the back of his head was very telling, you might as well have had his name carved on you.
“Gonna make you mine again.”
Heeseung was pushing your bathing suit bottoms to the side and playing with the waistband of his before impatiently shoving them down onto his thighs. You were both hurt by his impatience and extremely turned on by the fact he was about to take you on the beach without even fully undressing you.
“Tell me you want it.” His tongue licked up to your ear and you gasped at the feeling of his thick head pressing against your wetness, your legs spreading automatically for him.
“Want it. Want it Hee.” You were breathing heavily and trying to fuck yourself down on him even though it was pointless considering how strong his grip on your waist was, pinning you down against the sand and feeling the way you arched up into him when he started to push himself inside.
The slide was easy and your cry was loud enough that you almost worried the other boys would be able to hear you.
“Fucking tight.” His voice was strained as he spat the words through gritted teeth and you clenched around him at the praise, wanting to make him feel as good as he was so easily doing to you. “Perfect pussy for me, sliding right in. So wet y/n.”
His constant use of your name made you feel even more insane and you whined louder when he bottomed out inside you. Heeseung didn’t waste any time before he was starting to roughly fuck into you and it was exactly what you needed after years of pent of anger and emotions.
“Fuck me hard Hee.” You begged him through your cries and he gladly delivered exactly what you needed, slamming his hips against yours so fast it was painful. “Fucking hate you.”
“Hate you so much.” His rebuttal was quick and he caught your mouth in a rough kiss as he spoke, teeth hitting yours making you wince in pain.
“Show me. Fuck me like you hate me.”
He was doing what you asked without any question and you almost broke from how much you could feel it radiating off of him, hate and anger stemming from something you didn’t even understand.
Then it was over before you even processed it started and you were both left panting on the sand as the sun finished setting and the sand underneath you dried.
Heeseung was rolling away from you to land on his back with a grunt and your entire body shivered when you felt his arm pressing against yours and giving you a little bit of warmth that barely made up for how cold you felt all over.
Everything surrounding you was cold now and him not saying a single world just made it ten times worse.
You were hit with shame and guilt tenfold and tears were springing to yours eyes before you could stop them. You vaguely heard him shifting next to you and sniffing loudly, your head turning to him.
Your eyes grew in size when you saw he’d dug something out of his discarded shirts pocket and was sitting up with his head turned away from you like it would make what he was doing any less obvious.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Your voice was low and venomous and your hands uncomfortably went to cover your chest as you sat up and scooted away from him. “You’re getting high?”
He didn’t even look over at you as he cleared his burning throat and shoved whatever the small capsule was back into his crumbled up shirt. The sight of him rolling his eyes like you were annoying him almost made you just sink into the ocean and disappear.
“Get dressed before they come down here and find you like that.” He was standing up as he spoke again and you hated that the tears were fully falling now, hot on your flushed cheeks.
Your shaking hands did their best to tie up your bikini top and he finally looked down at where you were still sitting on the sand and sobbing. You weren’t sure he could see the tears considering how dark it was now but when he turned his face away with a cold expression you knew that he had.
Heeseung was pulling his shift over his head and hesitating for just a few seconds while looking at the stairs back up to the house, almost like he was considering leaving you there.
“Who even are you?” You weren’t sure how you managed to speak so strongly through your cries but he clearly felt the impact of it as he tensed up and his jaw locked.
“Does it matter?”
——
After you’d gotten dressed you had stormed past him up the steps only after slamming your shoulder into his side and steeling your expression. He gave you a few seconds before he was following you up but he didn’t come inside when you got up there.
You’d gone up to Riki and quietly asked him if he could take you home, cold hands shaking as they gripped his wrist and eyes still swollen.
The other boys were silent when they saw the state of you and you just hoped they couldn’t guess what had happened, shame hitting you hard at even the idea of them finding out how you’d just been used and discarded so easily.
You sat there the entire car ride back to town with your head half out the window and the warm summer air doing it’s best to stop the tears from rolling down your face.
Riki didn’t ask you any questions and you were grateful when he pulled into his own driveway and not yours, not even realizing how much you didn’t want to go home until you saw your front door and felt the nausea building.
It was unspoken that he let you rot in the bed in the spare room for the first few days and by day three Jake was rubbing your back softly and trying to get you to eat something.
Sunghoon came and went constantly and you spent most nights with him laying beside you, not touching or speaking but just having him there. You weren’t sure if they’d figured it out or if Heeseung told them but something in you knew that they knew what happened.
You started to feel slightly better after a week of moping and letting yourself finally feel the heartbreak that’d be been building for so many years and after two weeks you were back to work.
If you spent more your shift looking out the window to try to get a glimpse of him in the shop across the street then that was your own personal secret.
He was still somebody you cared about as frustrating as that was but it still made you sick that you started to worry when you hadn’t seen him for a few weeks.
It had been almost a month since that night on the beach and you no longer could assume he was just avoiding you. The town was too small and you would have run into by now regardless if you wanted that or not so he’d either been completely isolating himself or he was gone again and you weren’t sure which one of those hurt you more.
“He’s still here.” Sunghoon’s voice was low next to your ear as you laid in his bed this time, giving Riki and his family a break even though he insisted they didn’t need or want one.
You still wanted to come up here with Sunghoon even though it was a bit hard considering what had happened last time but you figured it was hard for him to be in such a big house all by himself now that his dad wasn’t coming anymore.
“Did you talk to him?” You were rolling onto your stomach and looking at him with wide eyes and he sighed softly as he studied the hope on your face.
“Not really.” He was mumbling now and the pout your lips formed almost made him feel sick. “Just for a second. I was skating past his place.”
You were nodding in understanding but you felt weirdly settled that he hadn’t gone anywhere and he was seemingly here to stay despite how it always felt like he was trying his hardest to get away from you all. You should have get the times worse that he was around and you had a change to run into him sooner than later but you were an idiot at heart.
“He doesn’t deserve you being sad for him, you know that right?” Your hair was being pushed behind your ear by Sunghoon’s hand and you watched him as he stared.
He looked vulnerable and it made sense considering he was not the type of person to say things like that to anybody, especially not to you. Your heart hurt hearing it from somebody else but you gave a soft nod anyways despite not at all agreeing with what he was saying.
“I mean it. You’re like… the best thing any of us could even begin to imagine and he acts like you’re going to stay no matter how he treats you. He’s always been like that, you just didn’t want to see it.”
Your face fell as he kept talking and getting more and more upset. You’d had no idea he felt this way or even noticed things like that and you hated that you started to think about what Heeseung had insinuated before on the beach.
It made you feel overly warm to consider that Sunghoon might have some type of feelings towards you and yet here he was, laying in bed with you for days and comforting you after you let some asshole break your heart for the thousandth time.
“I’m not going to let him do that to me anymore Hoon.” You heard your voice as it came out and heard how obvious the lie was, knowing he did too when he was just blankly staring at you.
“You love him.” His response was curt but it hit you full force and you tried your best not to let any visible reaction show. “You chose him a long time ago.”
You weren’t sure if he was talking about you choosing Heeseung over yourself and your own well-being or if he was once again saying what you think he might have been.
The guilt coursed through you when you were laying your head down on his chest and listening to how fast his heartbeat started to pulse but you couldn’t look at his honest face anymore and the conversation needed to end before it was all too much.
It was only building more when the next morning you were writing him a note letting him know you’d be back soon before hitching a ride back into town.
You spent the entire hour it took getting to Heeseung’s house both trying to gather the courage to go through with your idea and also trying to talk yourself out of it, reaching a peak of panic when you were knocking softly on his door.
He took a long time to open and just as you were about to turn around and leave, there he was.
Standing in the doorway that you’d seen him in close to a thousands times but looking so different that it felt brand new. He didn’t look surprised to see you on his porch and that made you feel even shittier.
“You okay?” He surprised you with the question and how genuine it sounded but you kept your face flat.
“Are you okay?” You emphasized the word and shifted uncomfortably in place until he was stepping aside and letting you in the small house. “The boys are worried about you.”
If he knew you were lying than he didn’t mention it and you took a second to glance around the living room.
Not much had changed about it besides the numerous boxes that were either still unpacked or in the process of being put back away. You didn’t want to ask him and when you met his eyes again you could tell he didn’t want to answer.
“Well I’m fine.” His answer finally came and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to say something.
He was such a mystery to you that it was genuinely started to get under your skin. He looked at you like you’d done something so terrible to him and you had absolutely no idea what was bothering him so much, especially since he was the one who had left you.
“You’re fine?” Your voice was flat and bitter and he nodded stiffly to which you scoffed and rubbed your face in annoyance. “So you don’t want to talk about it? You don’t think we should?”
“Go talk to Sunghoon if you want someone to talk emotions with.” His gaze was fiery on you and you almost flinched away from it like it really could have burned you.
You stared at him dumbfounded for a few breaths and the air in the living room was so tense you worried the walls would collapse from it. He actually looked slightly regretful after he said it which shocked you but it didn’t really matter since it was already in your head now.
Heeseung was taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair before looking at you one more time.
“I’ll get dressed and we can go.” You didn’t respond to him and your hurt stare was clearly making him uncomfortable. “Is that okay?”
You waited just a few more seconds before you were giving him a curt nod and covering your mouth from the shock of the entire conversation and whatever was happening between the two of you.
He was turning to walk down the hallway to his room but stopping midway and giving you a glance over his shoulder like he was making sure you hadn’t left.
Your shoulders lost all tension the second he was out of sight and you leaned against the wall to help hold you up, proud of yourself for not running out or embarrassingly tearing up again.
It was quiet for a long time and you didn’t even want to begin to imagine what was taking him so long to throw on a simple outfit but you’d begun to wander around the house while you waited, ending up in the kitchen.
“Oh y/n.”
The soft voice calling out for you had your head turning swiftly and your eyes widened when you saw his mom standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Ms Lee.” You sounded astonished and you hoped she wasn’t too offended by the fact you were standing in her house with your sandals still covered in sand. “I didn’t know you were home. I’m sorry to barge in.”
“Always such a sweet girl.” She waved her hands at you like you were ridiculous for apologizing for such a small thing and your heart warmed when she crossed the room to hold your face gently. “You’re friends with my son again? I’ll take that as a good sign.”
You smiled lightly and just nodded at her, not having the nerve to tell her you weren’t exactly friends and he definitely wasn’t doing as well as the hope in her voice led you to believe she thought he was.
“You were always so good for him. He worried so much about you never forgiving him for leaving but you must understand it wasn’t his fault.” Her hands were warm on your face and you felt a lot of guilt as she spoke.
You weren’t exactly sure you were supposed to be hearing this so you didn’t ask her any questions or pry.
Heeseung must’ve heard his moms voice because he looked flustered by the time he came out of his room, barely pulling his shirt over his head as he crossed into the kitchen and looked between the two of you.
“Ma, what are you doing back?” His voice sounded overly similar to how it used to as he comfortably addressed her and the difference shocked you.
“Don’t make me sound like such a bother.” She was lightly scolding him before letting go of your face and you immediately missed the warmth of her hands and gaze. “I was just telling y/n how happy I am you two are together again.”
Your eyes widened at the same time his did and your face flushed bright red at the implication that she thought you and Heeseung were dating now, along with how she apparently had thought you’d been dating beforehand too.
“Oh relax you two. I just mean together as in the same space.” She laughed and waved her hands in dismissal again but you definitely didn’t relax. “Where is he taking you?”
It took you a few seconds to realize she was addressing you and your mouth parted in silence, fumbling for an answer since you didn’t actually know where he was planning for the two of you to go.
“It’s a surprise Ma.” His voice was gentle and so was the kiss he laid on the side of her head, her eyes shutting happily as he kissed her teeth and rubbed him on his shoulder. “But we’ve gotta get going.”
She was shooing you away without another word and giving you a heavy glance that you didn’t really understand, following behind Heeseung as he led you out back through the side entrance that came out onto their driveway.
“Oh holy shit. You still have this thing?” You were curling your nose up at the sight of the old beat up pickup truck that his grandpa used to drive you all around in.
You always got the luxury of sitting on one of the other two seats inside since you were the only girl but all the boys had a blast everytime they had to pile into the bed and feel the wind drying them off as you drove home from the beaches and waterfalls.
Heeseung’s grandpa had died when you were about twelve and the truck sat in the driveway for many years until his grandma was giving him the keys for his 16th birthday, a wink and a swift warning before sending him off to pick you all up.
“I still remember you outside my house blaring on the horn.” You were smiling to yourself as you went around the front so you could climb into the passenger side, feeling the rough leather.
He was getting in a second after you and you tried your best to stare as he situated himself and cleared his throat before putting the truck into drive.
Your gaze on him made him glance your way as he was backing out but it barely lasted a blink before he was looking away.
You waited an hour before you were speaking again, spending the entire time with the windows down and the sound of the loud wind filling up whatever silence the old radio left. It was playing some tape his grandpa had left behind and his hands were tapping the steering wheel in time with it.
It felt the most like your old times with him than anything else had so far and you had to remind yourself that things were still different.
You may have taken this drive with him a dozen times but things had changed. His hand wasn’t on your knee drawing shapes and your eyes weren’t bright and filled with love as you laughed and yelled over the music together.
That picture was a lot warmer than what reality was and you glanced over at him again.
The mountains were stretching behind his side profile now that you were farther away from town than you usually went and he looked so relaxed and calm that you almost felt bad for ruining the silence.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going anytime soon?” You were turning your body so your back was against the car door and your legs were curled into the middle seat, a few inches from the side of his thigh.
He didn’t answer you right away and you scoffed in annoyance at his audacity to just ignore you straight to your face like he hadn’t been the one to invite you here. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from him in upset but he was pulling onto the side of the road and parking the car before you could get really mad.
You sat there for a few seconds while he gripped the steering wheel and you took the time to glance around the area.
It was a long dirt road with a lot of thick trees and bushy areas, no other cars or parking lots in site. You were beyond confused and if it was anyone else with you then you’d even feel a little scared but despite Heeseung feeling like a stranger, he wasn’t one.
“Are you okay with walking a bit?” His voice was low when he finally spoke and you noticed he sounded similar to how he did while talking to his mom earlier, your heart tugging at how casual he was being towards you after weeks of hearing him sound so angry and empty.
“Y-yeah.” Your eyes widened at the sudden question and you felt embarrassed for stuttering even though he didn’t seem to care considering he was nodding and getting out of the truck. “Not a problem.” You mumbled to yourself before following him.
He was disappearing into the tree line and you would have been more confused if you didn’t see the faintest evidence of an old trail that had clearly been overgrown.
Heeseung was confident in his steps and every turn he took seemed like it was practiced so you quickly gathered that he knew exactly where he was and you wondered when he would have come out here enough to be this knowledgeable about it.
You were together pretty much all the time as kids and as far as you knew he hadn’t gone anywhere since coming back to town so his mystery was just growing even more to you.
You’d been walking for about twenty minutes with just the sounds of snapping sticks and the wind rustling the trees before it was opening up to reveal a small waterfall and a pond amongst the trees.
The bank was completely made up of rocks and fallen tree logs, something completely different than the sandy shores you were used to. You could tell right away this wasn’t a place for swimming but you just kept following him as he hopped onto the large boulders before eventually sitting on one.
You watched the side of his face as you waited for him to explain and he just watched the view with a slightly pained expression.
“Can you… can you not look at me.” His first words hit you hard and you flinched at the rough tone he’d taken on again. “Please it just will make this easier.”
Although confused, you nodded and opted for instead staring at the way your feet were dangling over the open water. Your thighs were burning from the rough edge of the boulder and the height you were sat at was slightly intimidating but you willed yourself to not look at him no matter how much you wanted to.
“I came here the day that I left. Stole the truck and ran out of the house even though my mom was practically tripping over herself in the driveway trying to get me to stop. I think she thought if I went I wouldn’t come back.” He took a break for you to process what he was telling you and the last sentence hit you hard.
You knew he loved his mom and hearing about her fear and what actually went down the day they moved away was almost too much and you considered asking him to stop talking.
Instead you clenched your hand onto the cold boulders surface and waited for him to keep going.
“It was a world of things that don’t matter anymore, never fucking matter but I need you to understand how much I regret it.” You could feel him looking at you now.
“I should have said goodbye to you and I should’ve answered your letters but I knew I’d come back the second I heard a single word from you and I couldn’t leave her alone. She needed me and I figured you’d be okay with the others. You’d hate me but you’d be okay.”
His voice was getting shakier and you couldn’t resist looking at him anymore although he didn’t look upset that you had done so, his hand stretching the distance between you so he could grip your hand that was practically clawing at the stone.
You squeezed his warm hand tight in yours as you sniffled and the tears built up quickly when you saw how nervous he looked.
“And I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you at Sunghoon’s.” He grit his teeth as he said it like it pained him to remember and your stomach turned uncomfortably, almost feeling sick at the memory of how shut off he had been now. Especially comparing it to the way he was looking at you now. “I was angry at myself and took it out on you. It was fucking disgusting.”
A sob hit you at that and you don’t know if him scooting closer made you feel better or worse but you leaned into him anyways and felt your heart calm at the way he wrapped his arms around you.
“Y/n I don’t regret it okay? Just the way that it happened but you know… I-I hope you know that I’ve always-“ He sighed and stopped talking like he couldn’t find the words and you wiped your face quickly.
You leaned away from him just enough to get a good look at his face and he looked panicked like he didn’t know how you were going to respond.
“You’re not high right now right?”
His face fell in hurt at your question before it was turning into understanding and guilty, the shake of his head not doing nearly enough to lessen your worries which he quickly seemed to notice because he was leaning closer and making sure you could see him when he spoke.
“I’m not high I promise you. I haven’t been since that night on the beach.” He sounded genuine and you would have believed him before but you didn’t know him now and he easily could’ve been lying to you. “How can I help you know that?”
The desperation in his question and expression made him look so much younger and another sob hit you as you started to see him for who he was.
Not some corpse like imposter who had moved back to town and taken the identity of your old friend and lover but just a lost and confused Heeseung who had clearly gone through something you didn’t understand yet.
So when you kissed him it wasn’t for any other reason this time, it wasn’t because you just wanted to feel that he was actually there or because you thought there was no other way to be close to him again but it was because you wanted him to know that you believed him and you were patient.
You’d been patient and you’d continue to be because Sunghoon had been right when he said you always loved Heeseung and you’d constantly choose him.
Something in you told you that this time he’d do his best to choose you too, his hands holding your face so gently and his thumbs swiping soothingly over your cheeks to rid you of the constant stream of tears despite his own wetting his face too.
You weren’t even really sure what you were crying for.
If it was for the pain he’d put you through or the pain he was dealing with himself. Maybe it was because of the lost time and the years you could’ve spent together or the relief at not having to experience his absence again, something beautiful in the way you were holding each other and sharing the grief of what could have been.
You could only hope that what will be would be worth every tear in the end.
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nightdiary · 4 months
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last night's story | jake
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pairing: jake x female reader word count: 28.2k
synopsis: lured by the prospect of earning a couple extra bucks for the summer, you head north to man your aunt's surf shop on australia's sunshine coast. it's a visit that reacquaints you with everything you've been running from– old friends, abandoned memories, and one unforgettable jake sim.
genre: surfer!jake, childhood friends to exes to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, attempt at humor
warnings: surfing inaccuracies galore, reader almost drowns, smut (fem oral receiving, fingering, penetrative sex). MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! please let me know if i've missed anything.
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Despite growing up a five-minute drive from the ocean, you’d never quite learned how to keep yourself afloat among the waves.
Looking back on it, you found it quite ironic considering how everything you loved somehow tied back to the ocean one way or another. Whether it was your vacant seaside town, the colorful dishes your aunt prepared for you as a kid, or the people you cherished most– all of it was somehow irrevocably intertwined with the water.
And yet you’d always felt an unexplainable dread when you found yourself a bit too deep in. Once past the shallow end, surrounded by erratic water and a depthless bottom, you found it hard to breathe. No matter how much you fought to stay above, there was always a tide under all the waves, seizing you by the throat and rendering you motionless.
Coming back to your hometown felt a little bit like that– diving headfirst into a swelling wave and fearing you’d never find your way back up.
The handle of the train window jams as you yank it downwards, letting out a harsh squeak when you attempt to pry it open once again. After struggling to tug it flush against the sill, you prop your elbows up on the glass and heave your upper body to lean out, careful not to lose your balance.
Outside, you’re met with the heady smell of brine and the sun’s dying rays. The rusted sign denoting your town’s outer limits flies by in a hazy whisk, followed by the first few houses and tiny streets. The sky is a brilliant blend of soft pinks and warm yellows, the horizons of which frame the buoyant ocean’s glistening ripples.
Australia’s Sunshine Coast has always been beautiful, but the prospect of returning so soon has your stomach in knots.
The loud squawk of a passing seagull startles you into ducking back into the passenger carriage. The stop coming up is yours, but you can’t bring yourself to gather your luggage. Getting off the train seems like an impossible feat when you’re practically glued to its walls, too afraid to face what may be waiting for you once you get off.
A sharp whistle resounds from the conductor’s carriage, and you hear the tracks below you screech as the train begins rolling to a steady stop. You duck back towards your aisle to tug your suitcases out from underneath the seat, palms numb as you grip their handles and wheel them towards the door. You know you can’t stay.
The world outside slows to a painful stop as the train reaches your town’s platform, and you hesitate before pushing the rotational gear to open your door. You’re able to momentarily forget about all your nerves as you struggle to haul your baggage off the carriage, too preoccupied with the fear of missing a step to look up.
Sunghoon’s waiting for you by the singular bench the shoddy platform has to offer, hands pocketed in his light-washed denim shorts. He squints at you through the last beams of the setting sun, lips pulled in an uncharacteristically fond grin. The golden light catches his face at an angle that makes him look like a ghost. He’s everything you remember and yet nothing you recognize.
“Well, well, well,” he tsks, but it isn’t unkind. Sunghoon crosses his arms and looks you over, cocking his eyebrow sassily. It almost makes you want to forego the initial jibing, but you surmise it wouldn’t be a proper reconciliation with Sunghoon without it. “Look at what the tide dragged in. Haven’t seen this species of blobfish before.”
“I missed you too, Hoonie,” you croon, abandoning your suitcase in favor of running forward and looping your arms around him. Sunghoon readily envelopes you in his hold, bringing you into his warmth with a teasing oof.
He’s soft and smells faintly of sunscreen, the generic kind you stopped buying once you moved away to Melbourne. He still holds you like you mean everything to him, and he’s still everything to you.
Pulling back, you study the grooves of his face where the sun dips into, frowning at the chiseled remains of Sunghoon’s younger self. He’s different and grown– his cheeks don’t carry the same youthful chubbiness and his eyes are sharper, nearly devoid of the juvenile spark you’d come to adore so much.
You’ve only been away for two years, and yet Sunghoon looks like a stranger.
The two of you haul your luggage into the back of his junky Toyota, flinging the trunk closed with a resolute bang and crowding into the vehicle to avoid staying out in the humidity for a second longer. The air conditioning system sputters to life after Sunghoon slams on the dashboard twice, and you sigh out of relief once you’re finally met with air that doesn’t feel suffocating.
Leaning back into your seat, you hiss when the heated leather meets the bare skin of your thighs, pouting as Sunghoon drives off from the train station.
“How was the trip in?” Sunghoon’s question is too customary, too formal, but it still distracts you from the lingering burn.
“Fine,” you answer. You pick at the stuffing that’s coming out of a rip in your seat, frowning. “There was a crying baby in my carriage and a weird stain on my seat that I hope was juice, but otherwise just fine.”
Sunghoon hums, peering at you out of the corner of his eyes. He pulls into another street and stops at a red light, tapping his fingers impatiently on the wheel and shifting in his seat. He clears his throat, uncharacteristically nervous, and finally turns his head to look at you fully, “You look different.”
“So do you!” You’re quick to fire back, feeling flustered. You gesture at him limply with your hand, unsure of how to tell him he looks nothing like what you remember. Attractive, clearly more confident in his skin, but different.
It makes you slightly queasy, the thought that in just a matter of a year or so, you’d lost track of the boy you’d called your best friend for so long. You blame it on the swaying from the train.
Your town’s small enough to cross through with a car in about 15 minutes, but it feels like you’re locked in Sunghoon’s Toyota for several hours. The burning leather under your legs doesn’t ease up, and at some point, the air conditioner stops working and starts bringing air in from outside, so it feels a little bit like hell.
As you round the corner and enter the street where your aunt’s shop is located, you feel your chest tighten with anticipation. The houses you pass are achingly familiar, with shades of blues, yellows, and reds nudging memories that you thought you’d left in the back of your mind. It feels like the neighborhood has been locked in time, put away and forgotten after you’d seen it for the last time two years ago.
But unlike Sunghoon, you find that the shop looks virtually the same as it did when you left. The relief you feel is quickly replaced with guilt.
Parking his car in front of the sidewalk, Sunghoon pops the trunk and the two of you get to action immediately. You heave out what bags you can carry, wanting to minimize your trips to the car, and waddle after Sunghoon as he goes to unlock the front door. In the window of the shop, you spot a note with Sunghoon’s loopy writing spelling out Closed, I’ll be back later!.
Entering the shop feels weird, but not in the way that you’d anticipated that it would. You’re hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia as you look around, taking in the interior of the place with a racing heart. Minus the cheap paint job in an effort to reverse the sun bleaching along the walls, you can find traces of yourself still left behind in almost everything.
By the crown of your foot, there’s a splotchy stain you’d left on the welcome mat after attempting to balance your friends’ coffee orders, too distracted to consider the fact that the cups were hot as shit. Next to you, there are markings along the door frame where your aunt had kept track of your height throughout the years, notched into the wood for you to remember till eternity.
As you step further into the shop, you spot drawings and paintings you’d done as a kid on the wall behind the register, hung up with colorful push pins. Above them, up on the shelves, there’s a potted plant you’d gifted your aunt for one of her birthdays, now much larger and with more leaves than when you had parted with it.
“Auntie kept a lot of your stuff,” Sunghoon voices your thoughts, grinning when you look up at him with wide eyes. “Most of it’s upstairs in the guest room. You’re cool with staying there, right?”
Nodding, you set your duffle bag down with a huff, rolling your neck. The prospect of going up any stairs at the moment seemed almost painful to you, but the thought of falling into bed and resting your head on something soft (and not the dingy window of a train) was too tempting to ignore.
It takes three trips in total to move all of your belongings from the car to the room you’ll be staying in, but Sunghoon doesn’t complain even once as he strains under the weight of your luggage. You gather all of your bags in an empty corner of the room, drawing up a chair to tug open the small window higher up on your wall. Outside, the sky has darkened to a deep purple, and the first stars are beginning to appear in scattered formations.
Collapsing on the bed, you shuffle around until your head hits a pillow, sighing as you sink into the soft material.
“There’s dinner in the kitchen,” he muses, “I bought it before I went to pick you up so it won’t be warm, but you should still probably eat before going to bed.”
“I should,” you sigh, heaving yourself up and blinking blearily at Sunghoon. He leans patiently against the doorframe and stares back at you, sticking his tongue out when your sleepy mind begins drifting off again. You startle, suddenly remembering, “Shit, wait. Hoon, where are you going to sleep?”
“The couch in the living room folds out, and it’s surprisingly comfy. Don’t worry,” he promises, flicking the light switch off and cackling when you squeak in surprise. “That fried chicken isn’t going to get any warmer, by the way.”
“You got me fried chicken?” You mumble as you get up, trudging after Sunghoon into the well-lit kitchen. Indeed, you find a bucket of fried chicken sitting on the counter, covered with a plastic bag in a vain attempt to keep it warm. “Fuck, I love you Hoonie. I’m so glad I came back.”
Sunghoon laughs as you pluck a drumstick off of the top and bite into it like a vulture. He leans onto the counter and continues to watch you eat, a slow grin spreading on his lips.
“Yea? I’m glad, too.”
The decision to move away was one you’d been planning since high school.
Despite containing so many places and people that you loved, you’d always thought that there was something bleak, almost draining about your town. It felt like it was slowly bleeding you out from the inside, and the choice between here and elsewhere was one that was inevitable for you to make.
Jake had always called you crazy when you brought it up, but you knew he’d never get it. His whole life was set up here. Meanwhile, you knew your existence here was only fleeting. A momentary thing, never meant to stay for long.
The logistics of it were simple enough to your sixteen-year-old self; you’d work hard to finish school with high marks, get into a university in Sydney or Melbourne on a scholarship, and leave your town for good.
But the year after you graduated high school was stagnant. You picked up a job at a seaside restaurant and focused on saving up money to afford university and move to an apartment in a bigger city. The work’s long and tiring enough to numb you for a while, but it’s unavoidable that you get sucked up in everything you didn’t manage to leave behind.
Jake’s there too, because he’s always been in every single part of your life and you can’t run from him no matter how hard you try. Freshly-single, nineteen-year-old Jake had committed himself to ensuring that you stuck around for as long as possible, even if that meant inadvertently clipping your wings by telling you he loves you.
You don’t mind it at first. It’s hard to find a problem when the boy you’ve wanted since middle school admits that your feelings are reciprocated. It’s hard to think about moving away when you’ve yearned for so long, when Jake is finally in the palm of your hand and not off with somebody else. You’d forgotten to factor him into your delicate future, forgotten that him loving you back was an option.
It’s enough for a while– even if your job is shit and every day feels like a monotonous cycle of nothing, your head’s in the clouds when you’re with Jake. You feel yourself most when you’re with him, even if you’ve begun to forget who you are without him.
Moving away is at the forefront of your mind until it suddenly isn’t– there’s something keeping you tethered down and you can’t ignore it no matter how much you love Jake.
“I don’t think I can stay here any longer,” you tell him. “I’m not meant to stay here forever, Jake. It’s not fair.”
Jake had looked at you with a tired smile, almost like he knew you two didn’t have much time left. When the light caught his eyes at the right angle, you could see that they were glossy with regret. “I know. But it’s not fair to me to uproot everything I have here. I won’t be anyone if I leave.”
And in a way, you understood. While this place was nothing to you, it was all that Jake had.
That night, you rushed home to pack everything you could fit into a suitcase and backpack. For better or worse, Jake didn’t answer when you picked up, so you left him one last token of yourself in the form of a voice mail. The final decision to move away was made on a whim, finalized with a one-way train ticket you’d bought in the late hours of the night, and you hadn’t looked back on it. Until now.
A week before you were set to finish off your university term, Sunghoon’s name had shown up on your phone at a time far too late in the evening for you to ignore. After months of radio silence, you’d been startled into picking up and stuttering your way through a greeting. You’d barely recognized his voice over the phone at that time.
He’d called with a proposition so stunning you could barely gather your thoughts before responding with a shaky yes. Your aunt had to leave her surf shop behind to get treatment, and desperately needed someone to cover while she was gone. Sunghoon had told you that he couldn’t possibly do it by himself, and he’d called the only person he knew would care so much to arrive on such a late notice.
The decision to come back was not one you’d planned for either. You’d left with the intention of staying in Melbourne until you graduated from university, and foresaw nothing that could bring you back this early. Followed by another ticket bought at an hour so late the sky outside was beginning to pinken, you ended off your last exam and left for home on the same day.
The parallels between the situations were cruel in the way that it felt like you could never really leave– something would always bring you back, no matter how much you ran from it.
The shop is drowning in the morning light when you make it to the bottom of the stairs. It’s too early for you to be up, that much is evident in the way your feet drag behind you, but you cannot afford to flake out your first day on the job. And it seems like your boss is already waiting for you.
“Mango!” You squeal, suddenly all too awake as you run to approach the counter. Your aunt and Sunghoon hadn’t mentioned anything about her cat staying behind as well.
The chubby orange cat blinks back at you unfazed, fluffy tail swishing noncommittally over the cash register. When you reach out to pet the beloved baby, he rolls over on his back and chirps while you coo over him like you’ve personally carried him for 9 months and then birthed him.
You begin setting up to open the shop for the day after you fill Mango’s bowl up and sneak in a few more chin rubs. Though you were no stranger to how your aunt ran things, you found yourself retracing your steps and looking around blankly more than once as you went through the ministrations. You felt like a ghost hovering, revisiting opaque memories and relearning how to navigate what you’d once called familiar.
Your stomach’s in knots over the prospect of having to face people you know again. Last night was different– you’d been locked away safely with Sunghoon upstairs, away from peering eyes and curious mouths. This was about to change as soon as you opened the shop.
You manage to get the doors open with only a two minute delay. No one actually enters the shop until an hour later, when you’ve cozied up behind the counter and taken to eating your breakfast. At that point, you’d shaken away some of the nerves you’d woken up with and are able to welcome the customer with a soft smile that doesn’t feel forced.
Sunghoon comes down to check on you sometime later, still in his pajamas and sporting a surprised look on his face.
“Wow, I’m genuinely shocked you haven’t destroyed the place by now,” he comments slyly, taking a loud sip from his coffee mug.
“I’m more shocked that you’ve managed to keep this place open for so long by yourself,” you bite back. When you hear the front bell chime, you immediately straighten up and call out a friendly greeting to the customer, ignoring the way Sunghoon laughs at your switch up.
He saunters over to join you behind the counter, pretending to busy himself with fixing things on the shelf while the customer pays. Once you’ve bid them goodbye and closed the register, Sunghoon rounds on you and crosses his arms, shaking his head gravely.
“You forgot to give her the receipt that the card machine printed, fucked up big time now. I should fire you.”
“If you came down here to micromanage me, I suggest you go back to sleep,” you huff, reaching out to crumple up the forgotten receipt.
Sunghoon’s face visibly softens. “Hey, you know I’m just messing around, right? I’ve forgotten receipts countless of times before.”
Humming, you begin to clear off the counter and wipe down the surface.
“Are you mad at me?” Sunghoon asks carefully, lingering next to you. “I’m sorry. We used to make jokes like this all the time back in the day, I assumed you’d still be okay with it.”
This makes you frown guiltily. Your hands pause and you turn around to look at Sunghoon fully. “I’m not mad, just a bit on edge at the moment. I’ve been a bit stressed out about this whole thing all week, and it feels like I’m going to explode if something else goes wrong. I guess all this anxiety’s been making simple shit slip my mind.”
Sunghoon nods quietly as if to urge you to continue.
“Everything is so familiar and yet it’s all so strange and I feel like I’ve forgotten everything,” you whisper, voice cracking at the end. “I miss my aunt, I miss my apartment, I miss Melbourne. I feel so silly for not coming back earlier, but I know I wasn’t ready. And I don’t even know if I am now.”
There’s a weight on your chest that’s suffocating you and making the words stick to your tongue like tar. Sunghoon’s eyes are gentle as they look into your own, understanding and patient, and you feel the guilt consume you from the inside.
“I’m scared, Sunghoon. I’m scared to see Jake again. To go outside and see everything that reminds me of him. I’m scared that I’ll have to live with this fear always, that I won’t know peace where I’m supposed to feel at home.”
You don’t realize you’ve teared up until Sunghoon quietly hands you a tissue. You wipe your eyes and laugh shakily at the incredulity of it all– you’d cried enough before leaving Melbourne, convinced you’d forget all about your worries once you were actually here. You were far from right.
Sunghoon’s warm arms wrap around you and your mind blanks for a second. He squeezes you tightly and holds you for a while, until you feel your breathing begin to even out again. Quietly, you thank him and relax in his embrace.
After promising Sunghoon you’d be fine with finishing your shift, you go back to cleaning out the counter. You only have half an hour left, but you’re determined to see it through to the end. There’s a box of inventory that needs to be unpacked anyway, and you’d rather not sit around at the register and think for a minute longer.
Once your shift’s over, you trudge up to your room and immediately slump onto your bed. It’s got a loose spring somewhere that’s poking into your thigh, but at the moment, it’s the most comfortable surface you’ve ever laid down on. You could care less when a nap is overdue.
Mango seems to have different plans, however, as he saunters into your room and meows loudly. You don’t bother to look up until he’s resorted to jumping onto your bed, incessant meowing now right under your ear. You really should’ve closed the door.
Blearily blinking your eyes open, you see that Mango has situated himself next to your bedside drawer and is preparing to jump onto the very limited surface there. Yelping, you sit up and carefully move him back onto the ground, where he can do less damage and knock over less of your belongings. He makes an angry huff, but you ignore him in favor of checking to make sure everything on the drawer’s fine.
There’s a cup that you most definitely hadn’t left. Squinting and peering inside, you find that it’s filled with tea, made from the spearmint packets your aunt used when you weren’t feeling your best. There’s still steam coming out from the top, which means Sunghoon must have made it for you right before coming down for his shift.
You can’t stop the giddy smile that stretches across your lips while you pick up the mug. As you take tiny sips, your stomach begins to warm, and the feeling slowly spreads to the ends of your being. The feeling in your chest unfurls the tiniest bit, and you surmise that despite it all, you’ll be just fine.
Working at the shop is monotonous for a while. You and Sunghoon take turns swapping shifts so that you don’t have to be up with the sun every morning, but you still keep each other company for the later ends of your hours. It’s nice to have someone there with you to fill the gaps in between the customers, someone to whine to about the guy who came in reeking of wet dog and the kid that left sand all over the floor.
Catching up with Sunghoon is simultaneously weird and the highlight of your day. You’d practically grown up with him, and yet you now knew close to nothing about him. His irregular Instagram updates were nothing to lead off on, but you surmise your own lack of social media presence must’ve frustrated him right back.
Sunghoon is more than eager to share stories from the gap in his life for which you’d been gone. You’re able to piece together who he is now with relative ease, even if you’re bridging unfamiliarities in areas you’d thought he’d never change. He’s no longer the awkward, floundering boy you knew for so long. He’s sure in himself and his actions, he’s deliberate with his thinking and purposeful with everything he tells you.
Sunghoon shares with you that he’s almost finished with his kinesiology degree and that he’s been visiting the local hospital more and more often to shadow doctors. He still wants to do medicine, just like he’d told you in high school, but he wants to focus more on sports medicine and hopefully work in therapy. He also proudly tells you that he’d recently gotten his driver’s license, despite refusing to touch a car when you were both finally old enough to drive, to which you snort and tease him with yeah, who passed ya?. 
He’s still your Sunghoon, even if he’s blossomed differently from the Sunghoon you grew up with.
Aside from him, you have Mango to keep you company. The cat barely pays you any attention as usual, instead choosing to nap in places he shouldn’t be and ignoring you when you call him for pets. But you know that behind that tough exterior, Mango loves you so.
To say you’re lonely would be untrue. Every now and then, a customer will chat you up while you’re at the register. They’re curious at seeing an unfamiliar face and you can’t blame them, but it’s sweet all the while. You get a few recognizable faces in between as well, people you went to high school mixed in with older family friends who coo at you and instinctively reach out to pinch your cheek.
It’s Jake’s face that you least expect to see in your shop. You think it’s inevitable that you’d eventually run into him, but it doesn’t surprise you any less.
You were manning the register just half an hour after swapping with Sunghoon when the bell above the door whistles familiarly. You call out a friendly greeting and look up, only to choke on the last syllable. Just from his side profile you immediately recognize him– the grooves of his face are achingly familiar and the sweet tone of his nonchalant good afternoon back is like a punch to the gut.
You know he’s likely unaware that you’re back at all, let alone working here now, but it feels oddly motivated from the universe’s side. Your stomach swoops as you watch him disappear one of the back aisles, and you have a minute to pace your breathing again before he reappears and begins approaching the register.
Your blood runs cold once he finally looks up and notices you. You think your heart’s going to beat out of your chest and fall onto the tile floor when he stops in his tracks and stares back at you like a deer caught in headlights.
“Oh,” he says surprised, mouth hanging open around the syllable. “Um, hi.”
Your lips twitch but you’re unable to utter a greeting back. Jake approaches the counter like one would a wounded animal, and you hate the way your legs jerk with the want to step back. You think you hear him say something more, but it’s masked by an echoey ringing in your ears.
“Hi,” you croak, mindlessly reaching out to what he’s placed on the counter. Your palms are sweaty and so, so cold and you can’t even feel your fingertips where they’re wrapped around the sharp edges of the box.
“It’s nice to see you again,” Jake says, but it barely registers in your mind. Despite the gaping feeling in your stomach, you laugh at the formality, some color returning to your cheeks. Jake visibly relaxes at this.
“Yeah. I just wasn’t expecting to run into you right now.” Or ever, but you think it’s best left unsaid.
Jake shrugs. His eyes roam over your face curiously and you try not to curl in on yourself. “How long have you been back?”
“Just over a week now.”
He hums, gaze settling on the way your hands fidget with the item until the scanner finally picks up on its barcode. You hurriedly place it back onto the counter and slide it toward him.
“I really do mean it, you know.”
Starting, you blink up at him unassumingly. “Sorry?”
“That I’m glad to see you again,” Jake clarifies.
“What’s all this for anyway?” You’re quick to ask instead, words bubbling out of you like a stream. Your heart’s racing pathetically and you’re embarrassingly hung up on the fact that Jake cares.
Jake doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the change in topic. “I needed a new fin set for my board. I’ve got a few competitions coming up and figured I’d polish things up a bit.”
Right. It was no surprise to you that Jake never abandoned his love for surfing, unlike everything else.
“You should come watch me at the state qualifiers next week,” Jake continues while leaning over the counter, propping himself up on his elbows and fixing you with an impish look. You want to reach out and shove his forehead with your fingers, but you have to remind yourself that this isn’t the same Jake you’d grown up with. Whatever you’d once had was forgotten in the past.
“Sure,” you say, ignoring the nagging warmth in your chest. Feigning nonchalance, you busy yourself with tapping on the checkout screen of the iPad, if only to give your hands something to do other than to fidget with your shirt. “Me and how many other chicks?”
Jake laughs good-naturedly, but the momentary lapse of insecurity in his voice isn’t lost on you. You feel guilty for just a moment, but don’t allow yourself to dwell on it. After finalizing his order on the screen, you look up to find Jake already looking back at you, almost expectantly.
“Your total’s $270.59.”
Jake’s face falters the slightest bit, but you don’t think it’s because of the ridiculously high price. “Does that factor in the ‘good friend discount’?”
The phrase makes something sour flood in your mouth, and you resist the urge to scowl. The receipt machine prints out his total, and you rip the paper out with more force than admitted necessarily. You nearly slam it down on the counter in front of Jake, peering up at his shocked face through your lashes. “Yea? What’s my favorite color, Jake?”
Noticeably taken aback, Jake’s confident demeanor slips away as easily as a receding wave. He stutters around his next sentence, and you try not to let your satisfaction show as you open the register. Jake looks down as he counts through the bills in his wallet, pulling out several and passing them timidly across the surface. “Uh–, well, hmm. Something… blue? Wasn’t it blue?”
“I hate blue,” you spit the lie out a bit too quickly, and hope Jake can’t see right through you. You accept the bills you’re handed with pursed lips, slipping them into your register and handing back the few cents you owe him.
“You don’t,” Jake answers immediately, not bothering to reach out and pocket the change. “You love blue. Specifically that light seafoam shade you see on the shore. Said it reminded you of summer.”
Despite how much you want to disagree, your throat feels all dry and your eyes are stinging and you don’t think you can bear to look at Jake much longer without saying something regretful. But something about letting him think he still knows you makes your fists clench and gut boil.
“People change,” you say with an air of finality. “I changed. You changed.”
Jake takes his bag and steps back from the counter with the expression of a kicked puppy. He looks back at you like he wants to say something, something long left untouched, and you resist the urge to hide behind your counter and cover your ears with your hands.
You feel naked and vulnerable– like Jake has carefully stripped away every last layer of your defenses and he can see the rotting remains of everything you didn’t say. You hate how he looks at you, like he knows exactly what’s going through your mind and the inner monologue you’ve been fighting since you first met him. Like he still knows you in and out, despite moving away and changing every last bit of yourself that reminded you of him.
“Thanks for shopping with us,” the smile you give him is painfully artificial, and you shut the register with a bang that echoes around the shop. “Have a good day, Jake.”
Besides taking a trip up the coastline, there were only a handful of other things one could do in town to stay busy. You relied on the usual small-town things that somehow never got boring; going to the drive-in theater, drinking milkshakes until your jaw and stomach ached, and driving endless loops around the town.
Problem was, most of these only worked with other people. Your few options decreased even further during the summertime, when leaving an air-conditioned space was essentially a self-inflicted death sentence. Alone or not.
Living in such a small town also meant that out of the three or so choices you had, you were guaranteed to run into someone you knew wherever you went. It was one of the reasons you were so eager to leave, to finally go live in the big city where shops didn’t close at 5 and where you could go for a walk without seeing a familiar face you had to avoid.
And whether or not you dared to admit it, you were afraid of running into someone while out on your own.
You’d nearly forgotten about that aspect when coming back, only to be cruelly reminded on your first designated day off.
“What do you mean I’m not working today?” You cross your arms, frowning at Sunghoon’s figure behind the counter. “What else am I supposed to do?”
“You and I both know there’s like, only two possible answers to that,” Sunghoon sniffs, not bothering to look up at you from his phone. “And I don’t think you’d be interested in either of them.”
While true, you also didn’t want to give up that easily. “Shoot.”
Shrugging, Sunghoon finally divulges you with his attention, rubbing at his brow bone contemplatively. “Auntie Lee’s diner got a new arcade machine. Plus you never got to try that cookie dough shake she introduced after you left.”
“Cute, but I feel stupid going by myself,” you sigh. Heaving yourself up on the counter, you ignore Sunghoon’s noise of complaint and prompt him to keep going.
“Go see a movie or something?”
“All the new releases look like shit.”
“Get some coffee?”
“If I have another cup I’ll start vibrating.”
“Yard sales?”
“No, it’s hot as balls out.”
Sunghoon pauses, and you nearly think this is it, you’ve finally gotten on his nerves, but he taps his chin and hums, almost like he’s genuinely as invested in this as you are. And then he looks up at you with something malicious in his eyes, and you know you made a mistake coming to him.
“Jake’s place has a pool,” Sunghoon drawls knowingly, “but I’m sure you already knew that.”
Hopping off the counter, you ignore his cackling in favor of flipping him off. “Go fuck yourself, Hoon.”
The rest of your afternoon is spent very excitingly: you rot around in bed for a few extra hours, switching between three apps until refreshing your timeline no longer produces any dopamine. You get up only once Mango saunters into your room and begins incessantly meowing, a clear demand and order for you to feed him. 
Whilst in the kitchen, you decide to have lunch as well and reheat some leftovers for yourself. As the microwave drones on in the background, you fill out a postcard for your aunt to remind her you’re thinking of her and scavenge the drawers for stamps.
Unsurprisingly, you find your phone nearly dead when you come back, so, driven by a sudden burst of Marie Kondo-like motivation, you forgo charging it in favor of attempting to rearrange the entire layout of your room. It only ends up looking even more like a prison cell, except now you’ve precariously stuck up a bunch of wall decor that you unearthed in the clean-up process. A pretty prison cell.
There’s a band poster above your bed of four dudes you don’t recognize, along with fashion and music magazine cutouts from the 90’s. Your aunt had kept a surprising amount of the drawings little 5-year-old you had ceremoniously gifted her, and you try your best to arrange them in a way that complements the other shit you’d stuck up. Obviously, it doesn’t work out quite well.
Sunghoon finds you laying down, though this time it’s on the floor and not your bed. You hear him sigh obnoxiously loudly, followed by his phone’s camera shutter going off, and then a delayed but very pronounced Sunghoon-y laugh. The floorboards creak as he steps closer, pausing right next to your head.
“I’m going out with some friends,” he announces, prodding your shoulder with his foot. “I’m extending the invitation to you ‘cause I don’t want to have to drag your corpse out of here later.”
You sit up way too fast and your neck flares up in pain, but you ignore it in favor of batting your eyes up at him. “Where are we going?”
“Get dressed, Jay’s going to be here in ten,” Sunghoon sing-songs, not paying mind to the customary middle finger you flash him. “Something you can get wet in, preferably.”
There’s a dirty joke missing somewhere, but you forgo it in favor of jumping up and tugging off your ratty gym shorts.
Making yourself look presentable in ten minutes is a feat, but you manage to tidy up well enough that Sunghoon gives you a thumbs up when you join him in the shop upstairs. Despite the fact that you’re wearing shorts and a tank, it’s hot enough that you have to fan yourself aggressively as you wait for Sunghoon to finish packing his tote bag. He himself is donning a very similar attire– another pair of jean shorts and a loose, tucked-in shirt with a palm tree stitched onto the front.
The two of you are locking up the front door when a car honks loudly from behind you, startling you into dropping the keys by your feet. You grumble as you reach down to pick them up, ignoring Sunghoon’s bellowing greeting back.
As you approach the vehicle, the windows on your side roll down in tandem, and two familiar heads poke out like meerkats to gape at you.
“Holy shit, since when are you back in town?” Heeseung is the first to speak, leaning through the window and breaking off into a wince when he slams the top of his head against the window trim.
You have to hide your laughter behind your hand as Heeseung rubs at his scalp and Beomgyu chastises him for being stupid. They get over it pretty quickly though, and turn back to stare at you like meerkats. 
“Hey to you too,” you flush under the sudden attention, hugging your bag to your front. “I came in last week.”
Sunghoon must notice your discomfort, because he tugs you toward the other side of the car, opening the door for you and covering the top rim with his hand lest you suffer the same fate as Heeseung. Thanking him, you duck inside, scooting in next to Beomgyu and giving him what you hope comes off as a warm smile and not an anxious waver. 
Sunghoon climbs in after you, shutting the door and settling back in his seat with a groan. He reaches behind his back to pull out a fast food wrapper, chucking it at the back of the driver’s seat with enough force to send it bouncing back in his own lap. “Jesus fuck, when’s the last time you cleaned up around here, Jay?”
“I would’ve cleaned up had I known we’d have company,” Jay mumbles sheepishly. He drives off from the store, rounding the corner and setting you off on what you faintly remember as being the way toward one of the main beaches.
“It’s really nice to see you again,” Beomgyu interjects brightly, nudging your shoulder gently with his own. Wordlessly, you lean back into his warmth, letting your shoulders sit flush against each other. You think he gets the message.
“Why didn’t you let us know you were coming back?” Heeseung turns around to pout at you from the front. “We would’ve thrown you a welcome party or something. We missed you.”
Hesitating, you shrink under his unblinking gazes. You hadn’t given it much thought, let alone considered that you’d be missed. “Uh, wanted it to be a surprise?”
“We all know you guys would’ve been annoying as fuck about it,” Jay chimes in, “If I were her, I wouldn’t have told you either.”
“The difference is that we wouldn’t miss you,” Sunghoon chucks another wrapper at Jay, snorting when this one ends up hitting him square on the head.
Despite the growing havoc, you find yourself grinning, laughing along when Jay sends a horribly misaimed empty paper cup flying back. You allow yourself to lean back into the seat and relax, just like you used to do before you left. It’s easy to forget how on edge you were feeling earlier when you’re surrounded by people you’d missed.
You’d left many things behind, but it seems like your fondness for your friends never stopped following you.
Jay brings the car to a stop in an empty parking lot bordering one of the several beachfronts in your town. You remember this particular one being further south, where the waves grew taller and where many smaller-scale competitions were held.
Wriggling out of the vehicle after Beomgyu, you make yourself useful by popping the trunk and retrieving the straw mat that you knew Jay kept around for such visits. It’s now tattered and bears several holes in it after being thoroughly used, but you can’t imagine sitting on the burning sand with nothing underneath you.
Heeseung skips over to help you, hauling a case of beer out from the trunk and balancing it precariously over his shoulder. It’s then that you conveniently take notice of what he’s wearing– a band shirt-turned-tanktop with very revealing armholes– and nearly choke on your spit. Pretending to be unbothered, you train your gaze on the tips of your shoes, trying to focus on the way your toes wriggle, but fail miserably. Heeseung looks too good.
“We get it, you started hitting the gym,” you tease, trying not to openly gape at the way his arms fill out his sleeves.
It seems you’ve made it a bit too obvious, because Heeseung practically preens under your attention, grinning cockily and flexing the bicep nearest you. “Yeah? Just wait till I get in the water. There’s more where that came from.”
The comment combined with the rolling humidity makes you feel like you’re about to pass out, so you sneak one last glance at Heeseung’s arms before scurrying away. You choose to set up camp under the shade of a leaning palm tree, somewhat close to the shore but far enough so that the crashing waves don’t dip into the sand nearby.
As soon as the mat’s down, you flop onto it, spreading your arms and legs like a starfish before someone else can take up the space. Despite your efforts, Beomgyu easily crams into the space next to you, humming a melody under his breath while he unpacks the snacks he’d brought. He offers you a bag of gummies, so you don’t bother complaining.
The rest of the boys join you soon after, hissing once the hot sand begins to burn at their soles.
“Fuck this, I’m going in to cool down,” Jay announces, halfway through tugging his shirt off. “Someone text Sunoo and tell him to bring his speaker. And that inflatable Spongebob ball we found the other day.”
As Jay bounces down the remaining distance to the ocean, you tuck your knees under your chin and watch as a flock of seagulls crosses over the melting sun on the horizon. Despite being later in the afternoon, the air still felt heavy and sticky like caramel, practically oozing down your skin in trickles of molten sweat. You try to fan yourself with your hands, but it’s no use when each new gust of air just felt like you were being submerged further and further into a pot of boiling water.
Sunghoon heaves down next to you and Beomgyu, cracking open one of the beer cans from the case. He takes three, four, five long gulps, sighing at the relief from the cold liquid. When he notices you staring, he holds the can out in a silent offering, but you shake your head and point toward his mouth, where some of the beer had trickled out in his haste to gulp it down.
“Aren’t the waves too small for surfing?” Beomgyu asks.
Looking back at him, you find that Beomgyu’s frowning in the direction of the ocean, where a figure is trying to balance on a board under the lip of a crashing wave. Though you yourself never quite took on a surfboard by yourself, you knew that there were certain tricks one could only perform with taller waves, ones which were certainly not found on this beach during this time of year.
It was typically beginners who practiced on such small peaks, but from observing the surfer for a while longer, you could easily deduce that this most certainly wasn’t a beginner. Though they were having trouble because of the lower crest, their maneuvers were carefully executed and dynamic enough to be on a professional level, and even as the wave dipped, they didn’t lose their balance.
“Sunoo!” Your attention’s pulled back by Heeseung’s excited bellow, and you turn to find another familiar face approaching your mat.
“Are you for real?” Sunoo’s question is directed at you, judging by the way his wide eyes meet yours, and you shuffle around so you can hold your arms out for him. He readily launches himself into your embrace, albeit a bit awkwardly because he has to lean down, but it’s warm and inviting nonetheless.
The five of you pack yourselves onto the mat as you wait out the sun to dip further down the horizon. Sunoo asks you about your life back in Melbourne, and you’re more than happy to answer. In turn, you ask him about his job, about that motorbike he’d always wanted, and about the last boy you remember him having a crush on. Judging by his reaction, not everything had gone according to plan.
It’s nice to just hang around like that, too– even as you can’t help but think about someone missing. By the time your stomach’s all twisted up, Heeseung and Sunoo eventually begin to whine about their muscles cramping and get up to go cool off in the water. You watch as they race to the shoreline, snorting when they both end up tripping because of a wave.
“Sounds like you missed us too,” Sunghoon muses, eyes resting carefully on the side of your face.
Your ears warm at the prospect of being watched so carefully, and you duck your chin to avoid letting Sunghoon notice.
“I’m going to take a dip too,” you decide, hauling yourself up and beginning to tug your outerwear off. Though you immediately feel some sort of relief, it’s short-lived and it only makes you feel more eager to jump into the ocean.
The sand is pleasantly warm under the soles of your feet as you jog toward the shoreline, keen yet careful not to snag your leg on a stray branch or rock. Sunoo and Heeseung have trudged further into the ocean, joining Jay who’s now sat atop one of the huge jutting rocks and sunbathing like a cat. They’re close enough that you can make out their scheming expressions as they approach him.
As the water meets your feet, you’re overcome with an inundating sense of peace. Though you’ve already spent a week back at home, you haven’t yet had the chance to come visit the ocean. Growing up so close to it, it had become inevitably tied with your youth, associated with everything you considered home. As much as you tried to forget about it, the riptide pulled you right back under.
Jay’s squawk of surprise as Sunoo and Heeseung haul him into the water startles you into looking back over at them. You bark out a laugh as you continue to watch their shenanigans, Jay resurfacing and promptly dragging both of the perpetrators under with him. They all yell in unison, cut off once they plummet under, followed by a stream of bubbles as they wrestle with each other.
Any thought of joining them is thrown out the window when you see one of their legs stick out from the water, only to flail around uselessly and be sucked right back under.
You dip further in until the water is lapping at your chest. It’s pleasantly cool against your sun-streaked skin, and as you run your palms through the undulating water, your body readily immerses itself until you’re bobbing pleasantly with each new wave. The noise of the ocean stuffs your ears like cotton, and you can’t help but think you never want to be so far from it again.
An unexpectedly forceful wave has you yelping and rushing to keep your head above the water. When you bring your palms back up, you notice with a sinking feeling that a few of your rings are missing, ones you were sure you came into the ocean with. Cursing yourself for your carelessness, you look around aimlessly, squinting against the sun and watching for any signs of them in the water.
A bright glare reflecting from a stroke’s distance away from you has you venturing deeper, toward a section of the water where you’re certain you see something floating.
You lunge forward, expecting to catch onto the next level of rocks with your feet, but instead, you’re met with cold gaps of water and nothingness. A surge of panic seizes you by the throat, and you have half a second to process that you’re falling before your head’s submerged and you’re entirely suspended in the ocean.
There’s something tugging at your body, relentless and forceful and even as you squint blearily through the water, you don’t see anything there.
You feel yourself go cold all over, and the shock of the situation renders you immobile for a split second. Your legs thrash about trying to locate the nearest surface to find purchase on, but you’re pulled back by another crescendoing wave, and you lose all semblance of direction before you can head for the surface. As the wave flips you, you’re sent hurdling even deeper, where the water grows colder and the noise from above is muffled beyond comprehension.
You feel your chest grow tighter and tighter by the second, a newfound fuzziness suffusing your head. Your lungs burn with the need to breathe in, but you can’t tell which way is up and down and you think you’re going to run out of breath and–
There’s a tight grip at your forearm, pulling you toward the surface with a searing strength. Your legs kick out from under you as you try your hardest to propel yourself along, until another hand joins the other to clasp onto your other arm. You break the surface of the ocean with a ragged gasp, groaning when you feel your torso hit something solid.
You realize you’ve been hauled onto a surfboard as it buoyantly sways atop an incoming wave. Inhaling deeply, you grip the sides of the board until your knuckles turn white, fearful of slipping back into the never-ending whirlwind of water. The roaring of the ocean fills your ears like static until you can’t discern it over the sound of your own coughing.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” there’s a familiar voice above you, but you’re too preoccupied with hacking up water and trying to breathe to look up.
Something brushes your forehead, and you feel your hair being pushed out of your face, allowing the setting sunlight to burn against your eyelids. You blink the world back into view, wincing when some of the salty water dips right back into your eyes. You find an achingly familiar face staring back at you amidst the noise in your ears, and for a split second, you think it’s your oxygen-deprived brain conjuring up hallucinations.
Jake blinks at you timidly when your gaze focuses on him. He looks alarmed, as if the sight of him is enough to send you rearing back into the water. But even in the hazy aftershock of your incident, you’re unable to feel anything but gratitude.
Slumping against the board, you close your eyes and focus on taking deep breaths. The water around you sloshes as Jake maneuvers the two of you toward shore, taking extra precautions not to let any waves spill out against you. You hear shouting from the shore end, where you presume the rest of your friends have caught on to what’s happening.
As the board reaches the shallow end, you feel the same hands envelop your sides, this time bringing you into a secure hold against Jake’s firm skin. Your heart’s pounding in your ears and you’re too preoccupied with taking shallow breaths to focus on how warm Jake feels against you.
The next few minutes feel like a blur in the most literal sense. Your vision is still bleary and you have a hard time making out your friends faces as they cluster in around Jake and try to help him lay you down. There’s so much noise that you can’t discern any words in particular, everything jumbled together into a sequence of distant-sounding, unrecognizable utterances.
You groan as your back hits something soft and you become acutely aware of all the unwavering stares on you. You try to sit up but fail, clearing your throat and taking a few deep, staggering breaths.
“Fuck, I feel like shit,” you rasp. It makes a relieved bout of laughter ring out around you, and you smile despite the discomfort in your chest.
“We’ll give you some space,” Sunghoon says gently, patting your calf. The touch lingers as he draws away, and you follow his retreating figure with your unfocused gaze.
One by one, you watch as your friends pull back, reconvening further away so as not to overwhelm you with their conversations and bearings. But you feel a lingering presence remain by your head, and the curious urge in you beats out the embarrassment you think you should feel. Looking up, you find Jake already staring back.
“Is it hard for you to breathe? Do you feel like there’s still pressure in your lungs?” Jake’s eyes seek yours out anxiously, and you realize with a start that he’s genuinely worried.
“I’m okay,” you promise, “I think I just need to rest. I’m more in shock than anything else.”
Nodding, Jake exhales sharply, and you notice his shoulders deflate. He settles down on the mat, leaving a comfortable gap between the two of you. You watch as the material beneath him dampens from his swim trunks, eyes trailing along the exposed skin of his legs, now covered in smatterings of sand. You only look away when you spot a familiar mole on his upper thigh.
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.
You’re met with silence, heavy and unnerving. It’s the kind that makes you think you’ve said something wrong, something that needs to be taken back, forgotten. You nearly think Jake’s missed it until you hear quiet shuffling, then–
“S’okay, you just scared me a bit back there, that’s all,” he mumbles. You feel the warm weight of his gaze settling on your face again, but you think any last breath you have in you will be knocked out if you try to look back up at him. Looking at Jake has always been a bit like looking into the sun. “I still care about you a lot, despite what you might think. I was really worried.”
The sincerity in his words makes your chest churn painfully. Breathing in deeply, you reach out blindly with your hand along the mat, feeling the damp straw beneath your fingertips as you search for the familiar callouses you held onto earlier.
“I know,” you whisper, for a lack of better words. There’s something unsaid left hanging in the air, and you hope Jake can catch onto it before it disappears.
Jake’s fingers meet yours, and you hold your breath as they slip between the crevices of your own. You don’t dare to open your eyes, instead focusing on steadying your racing heart, on Jake and his gentle touch along your knuckles. His hold is grounding, but your mind still flutters at the prospects of what if, what if, what if.
The momentum between you two shifts after that, but the nagging voice at the back of your mind stays.
Jake begins joining your group around town more and more often, usually for smaller increments of time between his practice sessions and work shifts. You come to learn that he now works as a trainer at the same academy he started training at, and that he coaches the under-12 group. He’s still busy as ever, but your friends make it a point that he’s always invited no matter when he’s able to join.
Jake takes these invites seriously; he drops by your hangouts nearly every time you’re there, a feat that isn’t hard for you to miss. He keeps a respectful distance but it doesn’t feel like he’s taken to ignoring you and ruling you out of his life completely. If anything, it’s the latter. You know the distance is more for your own sake than anything, and with each time you see him, it becomes increasingly harder for you to stay away.
Jake also begins visiting the shop more and more often, though never to buy anything substantial. He’ll usually do a quick round of the aisles before coming to hang out at the counter, where he’ll make (initially shy) conversation with you before purchasing a Clif Bar and leaving.
Admittedly, you enjoy the company more than you should, even if Jake’s presence is technically a hindrance to your professional work environment.
“Don’t you have a competition to be getting ready for?”
Jake’s eyebrows furrow, and he stops reading the ingredients label of the bar he’s holding to look up at you like you’re crazy. “I am. This is part of my new pre-practice ritual.”
“What, buying Clif Bars and showing me funny Tiktoks?” Your question’s meant to be amusing, but Jake nods at you, dead serious.
“I think I like the Crunchy Peanut Butter flavor the most,” he hums, handing over the bar so you can scan it. “Also, if I don’t have your socials, how am I supposed to show you all the red panda Tiktoks I’ve been seeing?”
The iPad dings softly as you go through the motions of finalizing his purchase. You feel Jake’s unfaltering gaze follow your hands, and you try not to let how flustered you feel show. “Is this you trying to be slick while asking for my number?”
“Maybe,” he grins. “Only if it’s okay, though.”
Jake slides a bill toward you, taking the bar and pocketing it in his shorts. No matter how confident he sounds, you’re able to tell he’s nervous by the way he wrings his hands behind his back.
Wordlessly, you pass your phone across the counter, trying not to look too pleased as Jake practically whoops and picks it up to type in his digits. When you get it back, you see that he’s written himself in as Jakey, followed by an emoji combination that you can’t make sense of. Something warm stirs in your gut.
It’s your fourteenth birthday when you finally muster up the courage to let Jake teach you how to surf.
The word teach being used very loosely, but rather, just letting Jake mess around with you on his board. At that point, he had been in the academy for just over three years, enough to give both of you some kind of reassurance that he knew what he was doing. Jake had offered you lessons countless of times before then, eager to get you on the same board that had brought him so much joy, but you’d never had the guts to agree.
“This feels like attempted murder,” you whine from where you’re perched on his board, shrieking when a wave jostles you the tiniest bit.
Jake laughs at you, though not unkindly, and he expertly grabs onto your forearms and maneuvers you into a more secure position. He’s surprisingly gentle yet firm, and when he wades a bit deeper into the water, you find that you’re not as nervous as you thought you’d be. He instructs you on what to do when the next wave comes, promising you that he’ll be next to you in case anything happens.
He helps you ride out the first wave, making a show of clapping for you even though you did none of the work. The next few come and go very similarly, until you begin to get a hang of the general motions needed to keep you above the water. The reassurance of Jake’s hands on your skin is enough to have you soaring with your head in the clouds.
When a higher wave approaches, you tell Jake you’re confident in taking on it yourself. His eyebrows arch when he looks at you, but he steps away to let you handle it on your own. Your stomach swells in tandem with the wave and you scream bloody murder once you feel the board move, but you’re somehow able to stay above the water without any of his help.
“I did it! Did you see that? Jake, holy shit!” Your peals of joy are muffled suddenly when a wave slams into your side and your open mouth fills with briny water. Sputtering, you turn to see Jake fail miserably at hiding his amusement, doubling over from his laughter.
“Yah, it’s not funny! I could’ve died!” You scold him, but it only makes him laugh harder.
“It’s a little funny, you have to admit,” he says, and you really can’t disagree with him. “Besides, you’re doing really well. I’m happy you finally let me, even if it’s taken me months of convincing.”
“There’s a reason I don’t trust you,” you huff, but the words carry no animosity and you couldn’t mean them less. You trust Jake with your every fiber.
“I think this is your sign to join me in the academy,” Jake declares.
Frowning, you move to dismount the board and sink into the water next to him. “I can’t see myself enjoying it as much as you do, Jake.”
Jake hums, frowning. You can’t take looking at him upset, so you decide the best option is to climb up on his back and smother him in a tight hug. He complains when your arms come to encircle his shoulders and you cling onto him like gum, but his protests are weak and only motivate you to hug him harder.
“Can I be honest?” The vulnerable edge to Jake’s voice has you stiffening. “I’m scared we won’t be as close soon. I’ve got the academy and school, and I know you’ve got all those tutoring sessions after school too. What if we can’t hang out anymore? What if you start to think you’re too cool for me?”
Snorting, you can’t help but squeeze his shoulders tightly and lean even more of your weight on him. Jake doesn’t seem to mind one bit, hands warm where they’re holding your knees.
“If I thought I was too cool for you I wouldn’t be spending my birthday alone with you.”
“Not true, we had lunch with the rest of your friends earlier,” he mumbles, which earns him a chastising flick against his temple. “Ow, what! It’s facts!”
“Can you just accept the fact that I care about you?” You rest your chin atop his damp hair. “Maybe I even love you. Have you thought about that, Jake?”
When Jake doesn’t respond, you’re left to listen to the crashing of waves around you. You sit with the words in your head, and as anxious as you feel having said them out loud, you know you mean them. Jake’s been an inseparable part of your life for as long as your brain can conceptualize being alive, it’s inevitable that you’d grow to care and love him.
You didn’t know it then, but it was also inevitable the love that you felt would blossom into something much, much harder to ignore.
“I love you too,” Jake echoes, and it’s so quiet you nearly miss it.
Clambering off his back, you fall into the water with a splash.
“My last birthday wish is that you get me to that buoy over there.” Pointing in the distance, Jake follows your finger and squints at the bobbing yellow buoy. You’ve never been that far in, but you feel oddly brave in the wake of the setting sun.
“This is, like, your 5th birthday wish already,” he says without much conviction, already moving to pull the board in closer to you.
“I know,” you grin. “But you love me, so I doubt you care all that much.”
The day of the state qualifiers falls on the first Saturday of January, a warm and humid day with a sky as blue as the ocean. You and Sunghoon close up the shop at noon to join your friends on the beach, where they’ve occupied the closest spectator area to the shore and are frantically applying sunscreen before the shade pulls back from their zone.
As expected, they’re all boasting varying shades of blue– Jake’s (mostly) self-proclaimed lucky color. The whole shtick started at one of his first competitions at the academy, where you and Sunghoon had happened to both be wearing blue when Jake won his first ever podium title. Jake had called you his lucky charms, fully knowing it was silly, yet neither of you ever dared to show up without the color afterwards.
You’re also donning your own bit of blue, a discreetly tucked handkerchief in one of your pockets, with which you mindlessly fiddle as you approach your friends. You’d thought it to be subtle enough, easy to blame on a mindless coincidence, but one raised brow from Sunghoon had confirmed otherwise.
Sunoo’s speaker borders on obnoxiously loud as it blasts Megan Thee Stallion’s Thot Shit, garnering concerned looks from the company of grandmothers that have taken up seats next to you. They seem to reconsider their choice of seating, but the quickly filling lot on the sand leaves them with few options to move. You and Sunghoon have to squeeze in next to Heeseung on the end to fit on the blanket, and end up sitting shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee.
You’re also close to the judging panel, a small shaded hut where a few people in white polos are shuffling around with papers, readying as the tournament draws to a start. Heeseung passes the bottle of sunscreen to you and you thank him with a smile, squeezing out a handful to begin lathering onto your exposed arms and legs. The sun overhead begins muscling through the canopy soon after and you’re forced to savor the last few moments of shady reprieve.
The first competitor is introduced over the speaker, and an immediate ripple of cheering rings through the audience. You clap good-naturedly but can’t deny your attention begins to stray the longer it takes for Jake to be called. He’s one of the last names, and as soon as the two familiar syllables of his name are announced, you perk up excitedly.
Jake and his signature baby blue board appear seconds later, followed by a tumult of deafening cheers from your section. It’s partly due to Sunoo’s incredible lung capacity, but it’s also no secret that your town has always shown up to support Jake in competitions. He’s been a favorite ever since he began winning the junior championships in high school, climbing his way up to the highest ranks along the Sunshine Coast and earning himself the title of your town’s pride.
The rest of the competitors are familiar to you in their own ways. You recall seeing a few of them at past events, where they’d gone against Jake and failed to strip him of his title, and the rest being fellow members of Jake’s surfing academy.
The panel of judges officiates the beginning of the tournament, and with a resounding whistle, the first surfer drops into the water and meets his first wave.
Though you’d been to your fair share of surfing competitions, you’d forgotten the infectious thrill that usually accompanied attending them. The thrum of excitement in the air has you leaning forward throughout the entirety of the first, second, and third heats, watching the surfers tackle waves with an effortlessness that leaves you astonished.
Jake’s able to pass through all of the heats with remarkably high scores, a feat that’s never failed to impress you. The waves he catches within the competition zone are simple enough to leave no room for mistakes, and yet complicated enough that the other competitors struggle in their maneuvers to impress the judges. He performs his usual routine, the one you’d watched him rehearse for years on end during practice sessions, and ends it off with a foam climb that sends a ripple of applause throughout the audience.
As his last twenty-minute set draws to an end, Jake paddles back toward the shoreline while the competitor prepares to jump in after him. He waves over at your section, grinning boyishly when Heeseung wolf-whistles and Sunoo makes a suggestive hand sign at him. Your eyes meet for the briefest moment right before Jake has to exit the water, but it’s all you’re able to think about while the rest of the competition drags on.
As expected, Jake takes a place among the top 3 competitors. He’s just a few points from first place, but it’s enough to qualify him for the next, higher level competition that’ll undoubtedly be more important to him.
As the customary ending ceremony concludes, your group waits for him off to the side, away from the huddle of audience members queuing to get a photo. They’re currently swarming the third place champ, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but there.
Jake appears not long after. He’s still shirtless, which is really awful but also really great for you, and he’s pushed his damp hair away from his face. You think you’re going to die when he gets close enough for you to make out that the necklace he’s wearing is a wooden star charm you gifted him when he first started surfing. You know he’s most likely forgotten who gave it to him in the first place, but the chance that he might possibly remember has you feeling feverish.
Sunoo jumps on Jake’s back as soon as he joins you all under the shade. Jake oofs, but readily supports Sunoo with his arms, who cheers cutely and grips onto him like a koala. You tell yourself that you really couldn’t care less if Jake’s biceps flex from the action.
“There’s our guy,” Jay hollers, ruffling Jake’s hair. He circles Jake like a vulture and tries to jump on Sunoo’s back, which sends all three of them screeching and barreling down into the sand. You can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed even as people look over, laughing heartily at the way they wriggle around and curse.
“I’m going to blacklist you from all of my competitions,” Jake threatens once he’s finally off the ground, scowling as he shakes the sand out of his hair.
“You did really good,” you blurt out. “That last Pipeline came out of nowhere, but you handled it well. Even the judges thought so.”
Jake knows this. He knows his routine better than you do, knows what happened out in the ocean better than you do. And yet he still smiles sweetly, thanks you, and tells you he’s really glad you came. You see the way his eyes flicker towards the bandana sticking out of your pocket, and try not to preen under his gaze when he all but flushes.
“You should all come to mine to celebrate, my mom’s going to be making barbecue later,” he offers. Much to your dismay, he tugs a shirt on and hauls the strap of his bag onto his shoulder.
“Auntie Sim we fucking love you,” Sunoo mumbles.
It’s a unanimous decision, and you couldn’t be happier cramped into the back of Jake’s car.
Aside from your friends, the only thing you’ll admit to missing from your hometown would be Auntie Lee’s Double Cheeseburger and Milkshake Combo™. It was what you ate to celebrate your high school graduation, what you ate with Jake to console him after one of his many breakups, and the last thing you ate before you thought you’d be leaving for good.
But despite Melbourne’s more than abundant choices of fast food, all of the restaurants you’d tried out had only left you missing Auntie Lee more. You blamed some of it on nostalgia, but really, when it came down to your very professional opinion, she just made a really good burger and milkshake.
So, when Heeseung proposes you all hang out again soon, you’re quick to suggest her diner as the meeting spot.
Thankfully, not much has changed there either. Auntie Lee’s hair is now a burgundy red, a shade you think suits her better than her past ginger tint, and she greets you at the register with the same crooked smile you’ve come to associate with her good food. Her apron still has an array of colorful pins she’d collected over the years and a stubborn grease stain right below the neckline that makes you feel oddly reminiscent.
The six of you squeeze into one of the booths by the window, the same one you used to crowd into as high schoolers after late-night study sessions. The formation in which you choose to sit in is strikingly similar as well, and when you run your fingertips along the underside of the table on your side, you’re able to quickly locate a carving that you’d done haphazardly in your senior year.
“Holy shit, our initials are still here,” you say, and Sunghoon reaches under the table to check as well.
As Auntie Lee brings your orders in record time, you sit back against the booth and survey the rest of the table. If you dig far back enough in your camera roll, you’re certain you have an exact shot of a moment just like this captured.
“Inflation somehow never hit this place.” Jay’s looking at the food like a predator, and you try not to giggle. You hear Sunghoon mumble a prompt amen from next to you and you look down at your own food with an increasingly salivating mouth.
“Cheers to us and to the economy,” Heeseung raises his milkshake, and the rest of the table is quick to follow suit. As you laugh and clink your glasses together, you catch Jake’s eyes peering at you from across the booth, but he’s quick to look away when you notice.
As you dig into your burger, you try not to think about the lingering feeling of his eyes on you. Jake’s always had a sort of maddening effect on you– once the thought of him circulated in your mind, getting rid of him was like tugging gum off of hot asphalt.
“My shift earlier was ass but this is enough to fix me,” Heeseung mumbles through his mouthful of burger, wiping at his sauce-stained mouth with a napkin.
“Do you still work at that cafe by the bike rental place?” You ask.
Heeseung furrows his brows and shakes his head adamantly, swallowing his bite before responding. “I left a while ago. I work at that one hotel by the beach now. The one with the funny misspelled sign outside.”
Humming in acknowledgement, you swallow the bite in your mouth and frown. “Huh.”
“I feel like I don’t know anything about you anymore. And I feel like you don’t know anything about us anymore, either,” Jay admits with a pout. His words make your stomach turn uneasily, and you put down your burger with guilty fingers.
“Yeah,” Sunoo hums in agreement, “what’s been going on with you? You told us you were leaving to study in Melbourne, but that’s pretty much all I know. You never post on Instagram either.”
It’s true– when you were first planning on leaving, you had no intention of forgetting everything behind. You didn’t have time for goodbyes, and as shitty as it was, the thought of keeping in close touch with your friends scared you. You worried that what had happened between you and Jake would alter all of your friendships forever, and that they no longer saw you in the same way.
Clearing your throat, you try not to let your voice waver under the weight of their attention. “I do study in Melbourne, I pretty much live there full-time now. Have an apartment and everything,” you pause when Sunoo cheers brightly, and you flush at his enthusiasm before continuing. “That’s pretty much it, though. I was going to work in the city this summer, but I’m honestly kind of glad Sunghoon called. Didn’t realize how much I missed this place.”
Everyone awes, and from beside you, Sunghoon squeezes your shoulder gently.
“Do you live with anyone?” Sunoo asks slyly, popping another fry into his mouth. He props his chin up on his hand, feigning indifference, but you know him well enough to tell when he’s trying to be foxy. “Roommates? Friends? …A special someone?”
Waving him off, you laugh at how his lips quirk up inquisitively. “No, it’s a small space so I’m glad it’s just me. And if you’re trying to ask if I’ve got a boyfriend or girlfriend, you’re not being slick at all.”
The rest of the table laughs with you, but you don’t miss Sunoo’s whine of protest.
Jay crosses his arms, cocking his head. His stare makes you put down your fry. “So? Do you?”
“I expected this from Sunoo but not from you, Jay,” you huff. “Fuck, you’re all nosy as shit, you know that?”
When everyone continues to stare back expectantly, you pout and look down in defeat, “But yes, for the record, I’m single.”
“Jake’s studying in Brisbane now,” Heeseung says out of nowhere, and you look up to see the boy in question choke on his milkshake out of surprise. “He commutes, like, every day. As much as it’s crazy, I respect the grind. He’s always been smart as shit.”
The rest of the table hums in agreement, but you feel Sunghoon stiffen up next to you.
Jake clears his throat and rubs his neck sheepishly, clearly a bit startled by the sudden attention. Not for the first time that afternoon, he looks up at you tentatively, almost like making eye contact with you will sting him. “Um, yeah. I’m studying engineering. Architectural engineering, if we’re being technical. I applied and got in last year.”
“That’s really nice,” you say earnestly. Your throat feels all dry but you’re eager to hear more, almost desperate to grasp at everything you’ve missed in his life since you’d left. “Sounds hard, won’t lie, but you’re smart like that. I’m happy for you.”
Nodding, Jake’s lips twitch, almost like he’s trying to suppress his grin. The edges of his eyes crinkle as he tips his head forward in a show of gratitude. “Thank you.”
You’re not quite sure if you should continue the conversation or leave it where it is, so you reach for your milkshake, awkwardly tucking the straw between your lips to give yourself something to do. As you sip up the last of the liquid, your slurping screeches around the table and you wince.
“Fuck, it’s worse than I thought,” Heeseung groans loudly. His fork clatters in his plate where he drops it, the clang resounding around the empty diner dramatically.
“You two need to fix this, like, now,” Jay agrees, rubbing his temples. “The sexual tension is throwing me off. Do you get how bad that is?”
Frowning, you let go of your straw to stare at them in dismay, and, quite frankly, embarrassment. You’re sure your ears and neck are telling shades of red, based on how warm you feel all over, and you’re sure everyone can see. You knew you couldn’t avoid this for much longer, but the bandaid being ripped off didn’t hurt any less.
“You’re making her uncomfortable,” Jake speaks up. He’s looking at you concerned, but you can’t bear to meet his eyes for longer than a second.
“It’s okay, I know they’re joking,” you say meekly, frustrated with how upset you sound. You’re not, no matter how much you wish you were anywhere but here.
The blanket of silence that swathes the whole table weighs on you like stones. You stare at your empty cup stubbornly, refusing to look up at the pairs of eyes that are watching you intently, some with pity, some with guilt. You feel like a caged animal, backed into a corner and left with nowhere to run.
“I’m going to get some fresh air,” you announce. Still looking down, you get up abruptly and wade out from the booth, murmuring apologies under your breath as you knock into Sunghoon’s feet.
The night air is stuffy and briny as you breathe in mouthfuls of it. The headlights of a passing car blind you momentarily as you lean against the wooden railing of the restaurant’s porch, making you blink disorientedly. A group of teenagers noisily clamber in past you, and you ignore the looks that get thrown your way.
Jake steps outside soon after. Some part of you knew he would come after you, and it preens selfishly when he spots you and all but jogs to you.
“Hey,” he says awkwardly. There’s some scuffling against the porch floor before he comes to join you against the railing. A beat of stillness passes, then– “I’m really sorry.”
You snort. “Not your fault. Nothing to be sorry about.”
Jake regards you silently, the intensity of his gaze burning into your slumped shoulders. He always looks at you like he can see right through you, right through all of your skin and flesh and ugly secrets. It's unnerving thinking about just how much he knows.
“No, I–”
“Jake,” you cut him off, voice falling just short of desperate. Your knuckles begin to turn white where your hands curl against the porch. “I don’t want you to apologize. What happened between us isn’t something to be sorry about. It happened, and that’s that. Just wish you and everyone else wouldn’t be so stubborn about bringing it up all the time.”
The silence that follows rings in your ears and settles uncomfortably in your gut. You hesitate before speaking again, wanting to gauge Jake’s reaction, but you’re afraid he’ll leave if you don’t hurry.
“I just want to start over. Clean slate,” you mumble.
Jake remains quiet for what feels like an eternity. Your stomach twists anxiously, tossing and turning when his ruminating gaze shifts up from your shoulders and onto your face
“Is that what you want?” Jake’s voice is feeble and it washes over you like a breeze.
Breathing in sharply, you nod.
“Okay,” he says simply.
Then, in an act so unexpected it throws you off guard for a good few seconds, he thrusts a hand between both of your bodies, grinning impishly. “I’m Jake. Nice to meet ya. You come here often?”
The laugh that bursts from you is so raw and genuine and it makes your chest flutter. You take his hand and mutter your name between giggles, ignoring how the warmth encasing your palm is achingly familiar. "Fuck, you’re actually unbelievable. And no, first time in town actually.”
“Really,” Jake plays along easily, smirking when he leans against the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t reckon you need someone to show you around, would you?”
The implications of the offer are clear as day, and you visibly hesitate in your response. Jake’s features soften the slightest bit, like he’s afraid he’s crossed a boundary, and you hate the way your heart swells at this.
“I wouldn’t mind,” you say cheekily.
You and Jake have always had somewhat of a normal relationship.
You first met him in primary school, when he was still shorter than you and had a gap in his teeth when he smiled. Having recently moved into town, he was placed in the same homeroom as you, and, by the will something much greater than the both of you, into the empty chair next to you.
It was hard to ignore him for more reasons than the fact that he was sitting just two feet away from you. Jake was full of personality, as you’d come to learn, and as charismatic as a boy could be at the tender age of 7. He was funny, knew a bit too much about whales and turtles, and was nice enough to share his lunch with you on the days you’d forgotten yours.
It was inevitable that he’d become your friend– you’d walk home together, play at the park together, and dig around in the dirt for worms occasionally– and you never thought it would get any more complicated than that. Until you entered secondary school.
Jake followed you into one of the three secondary schools in your town, and it’s where the two of you would come to meet Sunghoon. Although you two were no longer in the same homeroom, you still made efforts to spend the majority of your free time together, now joined by a third. Sunghoon seamlessly became interwoven into your life just like Jake had, and you couldn’t think about a future without either of them.
At the end of your first year in secondary school, Jake started surfing lessons and got his first girlfriend at the academy.
It was weird for you and Sunghoon, now one person less as you gathered at your usual spots at the park, your backyard, and the parking lot behind Auntie Lee’s diner. Sunghoon reasoned that nothing much had changed, but you both knew that wasn’t true. There was a Jake-shaped void that was impossible to ignore, much less fill, as he became more and more enthralled with the sport and his new girlfriend.
You’d never really met Haeun properly, despite how entangled you both were in Jake’s life. You had no reason to believe she wasn’t nice– Jake seemed more than happy every time he talked about her and boasted the widest grin you’d seen on him every time they texted. She was among the top in her age group at the surfing academy, had pretty hair, and even followed you back on Instagram. You really had no reason to believe anything bad.
And yet, you couldn’t help it. There was some deep, ugly feeling within you that you couldn’t get rid of for as long as she was involved with him. Looking back, it didn’t bother you as much as it probably should’ve. When you’d divulged your feelings to Sunghoon, he’d also brushed it off as innate jealousy. Your best friend was spending more time away from you, who wouldn’t be a little bit frustrated?
But from there, everything went downhill. Jake and Haeun broke up by the time summer ended, much to your relief, but it was far from the last girl that Jake got involved with. As the three of you worked your way up toward graduating, Jake grew further into his features and learned to embrace his hobbies with more and more groups of people. It was inevitable that Jake would earn himself a place among your school’s most well-known, and consequently, draw even more attention to himself, both from guys and girls.
Despite all of that, he continued to be someone you and Sunghoon could lean on. He had rigorous practice sessions that took up most of his week but made an effort to visit both of you after school to study and get food. Any time you felt like he was drifting away, he’d reel himself back in and attach himself to your side like gum. Which only made the suffocating feeling in you grow stronger.
It wasn’t until year 12 prom that you realized what was wrong with you.
While Jake had a date from another class, you and Sunghoon decided to show up to the event together, if only to take advantage of the free food and drinks your school was offering. The whole night, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jake from across the dance hall, anxiously watching the way he’d spin his date, the way he’d smile, laugh, and look at her like she’d personally hung the stars up in the sky.
As selfish as it was, you imagined yourself in her spot. And in retrospect, it really couldn’t have been more obvious.
“Are you not having fun?” Sunghoon had asked, hands slipping from where they were holding you by the waist.
When you’d turned back to look at him, the crestfallen expression on his face made you flinch. He looked like a kicked puppy, and it stung more to know you’d been the one kicking this whole time. “I’m sorry, I got distracted.”
“Really?” He’d scoffed, this time fully letting go of you. There was a vulnerable look in his eye as he stepped back, face dipping into the shadows of the dancing lights. “What’s the point of agreeing to go with me if you’re just going to stare at him like that the whole time?”
Everyone had gotten a bit weird around this time, but it wasn’t hard for you to tell what was going on. Sunghoon had never been really good at hiding his own feelings; you knew the cafe study dates were beginning to turn into more than just study dates for him. You’d noticed the lingering touches, the meaningful glances, the fond way he’d call your name. Somewhere along the way, Sunghoon had gotten caught up in you.
In hindsight, it was selfish of you to forgo addressing it. It was selfish to ignore it, stash it away at the back of your mind and hope he’d one day find his way out. But the paralyzing fear kept you so eagerly and cruelly reciprocative, so willing to play along. You already felt like you’d lost Jake, you couldn’t afford to lose Sunghoon too.
“Hoonie, I’m sorry, you know I–”
“I know,” he’d said, lips twisting into a pained smile. His eyes drifted over somewhere behind you, where you knew Jake was dancing with his date, and he shook his head. “And yet some stupid part of me hoped you’d finally get over him.”
In all your infinite luck, it seems like you never fully could.
Slowly and heedlessly, Jake intertwines himself in the fibers of your life once again.
He’s the first face you see in the mornings at the shop. His laugh reverberates in your ears long after you two part ways for the day, his brief, fleeting touches linger along your skin like those of a receding wave’s. His contact name is the last thing you see at night, and he’s all you think about until you slip away to unconsciousness.
You’re so full of him you’re drowning– he’s everywhere around you and you think there’s really no escaping him this time.
“When does your shift end?” Jake pushes yet another Clif Bar across the register’s counter toward you.
The clock behind you chimes softly in response. You squint up at the rusted arrows and turn to Jake inquisitively. “In 10 minutes. Why?”
“Cool,” Jake rips open the wrapper and takes a bite from the bar. Chewing, he grins at you slyly. “You wanna come by mine after?” The proposition sounds more like a question than anything, but Jake knows you’ll say yes.
Jake’s car is a shacky little thing his family gifted him for this 18th. It’s the same as you remember it, with a mess of stickers haphazardly stuck along the dashboard and a row of stuffed animals along the back window that his cousins had left behind. The passenger seat still squeaks when you try to adjust it, and you both laugh when you end up sitting down and the cushion whines from under you.
Jake drives you through a route you know too well. He rolls the windows down (as far as the car allows them) and points at renovated buildings and new lots alike, narrating everything you’d missed while away. You lean against the door and let the breeze wash over your face, fiddling with the bag in your lap.
You’re there but you’re also not– Jake’s voice serves as an anchor while your mind wanders off just far enough not to worry him. These are all places you’ve been with him, and with each passing place, you have to blink away vivid memories that flash before your eyes in technicolor film.
You and Jake celebrating your middle school graduation at the rundown arcade that’s now been modernized. You and Jake troubling over what to gift Sunghoon at the comic book store that’s now shut down forever. You and Jake chasing his dog at the park that now finally has a special fenced off section just for dogs. You and Jake–
“This is the park where you lost one of your baby teeth from falling off a swing. You started crying and I had to take you home on my bike.”
“You remember that?” You blink at him incredulously, face growing hot.
“Of course I do,” Jake says matter-of-factly. “It’s hard to forget when the tooth’s still in my room.”
“What?!” Your bag slips off your lap when you sit up straight, bewildered and embarrassed. “No way, your mom wrapped it up and I took it home with me.”
Jake brings the car to a steady stop by the curb in front of his house. He reaches over across you to help you roll your window back up, and you try not to squirm under his amused gaze. “I’ll just show you then.”
Layla greets both of you at the threshold of the door, yelping once she lays eyes on you. You have a solid second to brace yourself before she leaps forward, propping both of her front paws against your thighs and wagging her tail so fast you worry she’ll start floating. Nearly losing your balance, you squeak in surprise, but are quick to reach out and pet her. 
You coo at her like she’s your own baby and in a way, she certainly is.
She’s soft and warm, cuddly as she headbutts your palms and licks at your fingers. “I missed you so much, cutie.”
“She missed you too,” Jake says, and you look up right as the camera shutter on his phone goes off. Squawking, you cover your face, albeit too late, because Jake giggles at his screen and you hear him mumble a quiet cute.
Jake’s room looks smaller than you remember it being. You think it’s because the small twin he used to have has been replaced by a modest queen, but you’re also no longer fresh out of high school and naive. There are sun-bleached spots in places where his old posters are, the walls now sparsely lined with polaroids and printed film photos.
Your feet subconsciously bring you closer to the walls. You squint at each of the photos, the people in some of them unrecognizable to you. There’s one from the day of your graduation, but it’s just Jake with his mom, along with a bouquet large enough to take up a third of the frame. There are a few of Layla in a wide range of settings, including one that you’re certain was taken while you were at the park together. There’s even one of the sunrise at the beach on a morning with calm waters and no people in sight.
Most notably, there are none of you up there. You reason that it wouldn’t make any sense for there to be in the first place, given everything that had happened, but some pathetic part of you wishes that Jake still held onto you the same way you did to him.
“Here,” Jake says, snapping your attention back to him. He’s unearthed a plain blue box from the depths of his closet, and he’s pushing it towards you with a lopsided smile.
You abandon the photographs and plop yourself down on the carpet. Peeling back the lid of the box, you peek inside and try to ignore the way your breath quickens when Jake situates himself right next to you. Your knees brush together as your fingers slowly sift through the contents, your mind barely registering what you’re looking at in the box.
A bunch of movie tickets from screenings you’d seen years ago. A birthday card you’d painted for him in middle school. An old Pikachu figurine you’d won for him at the fair. A postcard you’d mailed him from a school trip to Sydney. A magazine cutout from when you’d sat down to do vision boards together. A polaroid of you and Jake at the beach, posing with a hyperactive Layla who’d come out blurry on the film. A tiny plastic box with your baby tooth in it.
Your mind is racing so fast you feel the world around you halt still. Your shaky fingers pick up the box, peeling back the napkin that it’s wrapped up in.
“You– Why’d you keep all of this?”
Jake blinks at you like it’s a ridiculous question. “What, am I supposed to get rid of everything that reminds me of you? This box doesn’t have even a fraction of all that, anyway.”
It’s hard for you to wrap your mind around the thought, but Jake’s been holding onto you far longer than you could’ve hoped for.
“Can I tell you something?” Jake asks.
“You already did,” you joke, crumpling up the napkin under your hands and chucking it at him.
Jake catches it effortlessly and grins at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know you said you wanted to forget everything from before, but I feel as if I owe you an explanation. If not you, then for my own sake. It keeps me up sometimes, ya know?”
Your breath begins to thin out, but you nod anyway. You’ve known this conversation was inevitable, no matter how much you pushed it off. You couldn’t go back to Melbourne without letting Jake rip off the same bandaid for which he was responsible.
Jake’s eyes are soft as they meet your own, his hands gentle as they seek yours out to cradle them. “I could never be upset at you for prioritizing your own future back then, and I hope you don’t carry any of that burden with you. It was me who was unsure of what was happening in my life, what I wanted to do after high school. And it was wrong of me to try and tie you down with me here.
“If anything, you were the only direction I had in my life. And I was so, so scared I’d lose you to something else. Something better. But when I look back on how selfish I was, how desperate I was to keep you around, I can’t help but feel so guilty. Because I should’ve seen how unhappy you were here, and being with me couldn’t change that.”
Jake’s voice is so fragile you could smash it into a million pieces like fine china. Your eyes blink once, twice, and then your cheeks feel all damp and you can’t hold it in anymore. Jake thumbs at the tears that skid down your skin, and you try to swallow down your erratic hiccups, but even through your sobs, you can feel yourself laughing. Despite your tears, you’re happy.
“I don’t think I was ever unhappy,” you admit. “I was just scared. Scared of getting stuck here like everyone else. Scared I’d never accomplish anything and that I’d waste away the most important years of my life. I was so scared I forgot to think about everything that was worth staying for here. Like you.”
Pulling the box into your lap, you look down at its contents with a teary smile. Though you feel shaken up, there’s an underlying cathartic release to it all– this is the closure that you left without, the closure you thought you were never going to get.
“I hope you don’t mind me taking my tooth home with me,” you tease, pocketing the packaged tooth in your shorts. Looking up, you push the box into Jake’s hands. “You can keep the rest.”
Jake regards you silently, but the look on his face is so soft it makes your ears feel all hot. He nods, looking down into the contents of the box with a smile wide enough to make the edges of his eyes crease up. “I don’t mind,” he muses, “I really did keep a lot of things, huh?”
“It’s cute though!” You’re quick to reassure, and Jake’s answering laughter sounds like fizzy soda pop.
The two of you lounge around on the floor of his bedroom until it’s too hot to even lay around. As Layla enters the room and pounces on you, Jake sits up to look at you while you scratch behind her ears and mumble nonsense to her. “You wanna go in the pool?”
“I didn’t bring my bathers though,” you frown between coos.
“Oh my God,” Jake groans, getting up from the floor and pacing over to his drawers. “You’ve even started speaking like a Melburnian. They’re togs, excuse you, and I can lend you some shorts or something.”
The shorts and shirt he passes you have random cartoons on them and are thankfully dark enough to not go transparent in the water. You clamber up from your spot on the floor and wince as you stretch.
“I’ll change in here,” you tell him. When Jake remains standing in the room with a blank expression, you point towards the door and tell him to shoo.
“Got it chief,” Jake salutes you jokingly, “Layla, let’s go girl.”
“Layla can stay,” you interrupt him, whistling to call her back over. Layla obediently follows, planting herself by your feet and barking at Jake, who remains frozen in the doorway.
“This feels really mean,” he pouts at you, grabbing the door knob to shut the door after him. But even after he closes the door, you can hear his voice in the hallway. “Last one in the pool is a loser!”
Huffing, you look down at Layla and giggle when she nudges your foot as if to say hurry up.
There’s a lightness to your breaths that you swear came after that day at Jake’s. You think it’s silly to attribute it to a mere conversation, but in retrospect, any weight you’d carried before was because of an absence of any such conversation.
You feel good, oddly much so that it’s almost weird. You feel as if the universe had absolved you of all the pain and guilt you had tied to this place, and all you were left with was the fondness and euphoria of finally being back.
Until shit begins hitting the fan soon after.
On an unusually gloomy day for the summer, you and Sunghoon find yourselves on the steps in front of the shop, taking advantage of the opportunity to be outside without experiencing heat stroke symptoms. The concrete is still warm under your legs, enough so that Sunghoon offers up his shirt for you to sit on at one point, but it’s a welcome change from the unpleasant temperatures you’d seen thus far.
It’s Sunghoon’s part of the shift currently, but the store’s been eerily empty for the first half of the day, so you two have taken it upon yourselves to take a well-deserved break. Perks of being your own bosses, and you’re sure your aunt would approve. You’d hardly broken a sweat, and who are you to turn down Sunghoon’s offer of ice cream and a soda?
Besides, listening to Sunghoon fervidly talk about the new tv show he’s started watching while you chow down your cone is a treat of its own. You take the chance to rant about the last weird TikTok you saw while Sunghoon finishes off his own ice cream before it melts.
There’s a natural lull in your conversation at which point you decide to check your phone. Jake’s name is atop most of the notifications on your screen, and you’re not quite sure what to reply to first. Your fingers fidget on the device and you bite your bottom lip, holding back a grin when you finally click on your messages and see a picture of Layla with a hat too big for her head.
“What’re you smiling so much at?” Sunghoon’s voice is teasing, and you have half a second to process his question before he’s cramming into your side and peeking at your phone with prying eyes.
“Hey!” You scold, but it’s too late, because he’s seen the contact name atop, and you can’t think of a lie fast enough before his next question comes.
“You’re texting Jake?” The teasing smirk on his lips melts with the accusatory tone in his voice, and you wince as you lock your screen and hide your phone.
“Why do you sound like that? You’re acting like you’ve just walked in on me trying to hide a body or something!”
Sunghoon’s lips purse and he eyes your side, where you’ve tucked your phone away. “Don’t be ridiculous, this is basically the equivalent.”
“Ridiculous?” You scoff. Something in your throat settles uneasily, and you try not to sound too hurt when you speak again. “I’m just talking to him, Hoon. What are you on about?”
“Really? You’re giving him a second chance after everything he’s done?” Sunghoon fixes you with a dismayed stare, brows furrowed and fists clenched where they rest in his lap. “Do I have to remind you that you left in the first place because of him?”
The lump in your throat grows and you feel like you’ll throw up. Looking away, you blink up at the cloudy sky and try to focus on evening out your breathing. Fights with Sunghoon have never been easy, but fights with Sunghoon about Jake, though rare, always left you numb for days on end.
“I’m not giving him a second chance. We’re friends, testing the waters again, that’s all,” you say meekly. “And I didn’t leave because of him, I was going to study in Melbourne anyway. Stop giving him so much credit.”
Sunghoon’s silence feels like an eternity. You hear him shift next to you, then, out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he stands up. His stare burns into your scalp like the scalding sun. “Even you don’t believe yourself.”
Sunghoon’s eyes are glossy and tender from where you can see them, and it dawns on you that he’s close to crying. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip and his eyebrows are set and furrowed, but you can tell that he’s upset and failing at hiding it.
“It may not seem like it, but it hurt all of us when you stopped keeping in touch after you left,” he continues, wiping at his eyes with his hand. “It sucked a lot. We all thought we lost a good friend forever.”
“Sunghoon,” you call, voice breaking off at the end. You reach out to grab him by the wrist, looking up with wide, apologetic eyes. “Sunghoon, I’m sorry. I’ve always–”
“Had a thing for Jake? Yeah, I know,” he dismisses, smiling shakily. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “I know. And you know I’ve always had a thing for you. But I didn’t let that get in the way ”
“Because it’s not fair to either of us.” You can feel your throat begin to tighten in the same way it does when you’re about to sob, can feel your eyes sting and your heart falter painfully.
Abruptly standing up from the curb, you ignore the way your skin burns from the heated concrete and reach out to envelop Sunghoon into a tight hug. His arms remain limp at his sides for a brief second, until he hears you sniffle and immediately reciprocates the embrace. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, coaxing Sunghoon into rocking back and forth with you.
“I love you,” he says. “I love you so much and I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
Nodding against his shoulder, you pull back to look at him. The rims of his eyes are red and his face is slightly puffy, but you realize he’s no different than the boy you’ve always held so dear to your heart. No matter the distance you’ve spent apart, the disagreements you’ve struggled over, the spats and rocky paths. He’s still your Sunghoon.
“I love you too, Hoonie.” Wiping at one of the tear streaks on his cheekbone, you gently cup his cheek and ignore the way your heart falters when he leans into your touch. “Even if it’s not in the way I wish I could, I still love you so much."
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything for a minute, instead resigning to just closing his eyes and melting against your hand. You hold still all the while, humming softly under your breath until he feels ready to move off.
“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Sunghoon decides. He wipes at the remaining tears on his face, and moves to hold the door to the shop open, gesturing you inside. “I’ve got cookie dough Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer that I need your help finishing. And no, you cannot get out of this.”
Snorting, you step inside and look over your shoulder to tease, “If you seriously think I’d pass on Ben and Jerry’s, we should re-evaluate this friendship.”
Sunghoon laughs, a full-bellied one where you can see the endearingly sharp edges of his teeth and his Adam's apple bob, and closes the door behind him. He doesn’t say anything to that, silently wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he leads you up the stairs. When you look over, he’s still smiling. You think you’ll be okay.
Rolling down the window, you thrust your arm out into the humid evening air and relish in the gust of wind that meets your palm. From your position on the hill, you can see the entirety of the shoreline in all of its tranquil glory, devoid of any visitors and undisturbed in the wake of the sunset.
You think that this is where you’re meant to be– in a quiet world, next to Jake, with every trivial worry left behind.
Jake parks the car underneath the jagged shade of a pandanus tree and races over to the other side to open your door, almost tripping in his haste. Laughing, you step out and help him unload his board from where it’s tied to the roof of the car.
The two of you have routinely begun choosing the same spot on the beach. It’s close enough to the water so that you can reach it without the sand burning your feet, but far enough so that the crashing waves don’t end up touching you. You know it’s the same spot because it’s next to a mosaic made of seashells that has yet to be destroyed.
Jake thinks the mosaic resembles a cityscape, but you think it looks like a blooming rose.
Sometimes, Jake swims around on his board and practices old moves while you watch him keenly. Sometimes, you read an old book or doze off while Jake does laps around the shore. Sometimes, he even invites you into the water with him, and sometimes, you say yes. You mutually bask in the presence of the ocean and each other, and it’s all you really need.
“God, it’s so humid today,” you complain, huffing as you drop your bag onto the sand. Jake hums in agreement and straightens out the blanket so that you can sit down.
“It won’t be getting much worse after this. Summer’s almost over anyway,” Jake says mindlessly, tugging at his own bag and rummaging through it with a pout.
Right. It was at the forefront of your mind until it suddenly wasn’t– leaving again.
The prospect of having to return to a life without Jake and Sunghoon and everyone else you loved here was proving difficult for you to conceptualize. The return ticket sitting in your wallet was long forgotten, tucked away in a pocket and left untouched until now. Your fingers itch to reach for it in your bag, to rip it to shreds and dig it under the sand and forget about it for good.
A nudge on your shoulder snaps you back to the present, and you find Jake holding out a Melona bar in a silent offering. You take it with a wide grin and rip open the plastic without hesitation. You haven’t had these popsicles in a while, probably since the last time Jake bought you one.
“You wanna tell me what you’re thinking about?”
Popping your mouth off of the bar, you lick your lips and crane your neck to look at Jake. He’s in the process of opening his own popsicle, but he’s watching you carefully, almost timidly.
“A bunch of silly shit,” you admit. “Like how I don’t want to go back to Melbourne all that much anymore.”
Jake’s eyes dip across your face, like he’s searching for indications that you’re lying. You think they pause on your lips for the slightest second longer, but then he’s looking away altogether and you don’t know if you can trust yourself.
“I don’t want you to go back to Melbourne either,” he laughs, voice breaking off toward the end. He’s nervous.
“Clingy much?” Your joke’s meant to ease the ache in your chest but it only makes it worse. “It’s fine, you have my number and socials. You can bother me there.”
“We don’t have to talk about this right now. You’ve still got a few weeks anyway, why focus on leaving when we could be making the most of this time?” And Jake’s right. Last you were here, you hadn’t known you wouldn’t be back for a while. You never got a proper goodbye with many people or places. But now you knew, and there was no use mourning the inevitable.
You knew you would be back eventually.
You and Jake finish off your Melona bars and shed your outerwear so you can wade into the water. As your fingertips graze the water by your hips, you close your eyes and wiggle your toes against the sandy floor. You hear Jake dive into the water nearby, followed by a split second of calm before something brushes along your calf and you can’t hold in your terrified shriek.
Looking down, you find Jake peering up at you through the water, his wide grin visible even under the buoyant ripples. He resurfaces with a big splash in front of you, sticking his tongue out at you childishly while you wipe the water from your face. You feel your jaw drop incredulously, and you have half a mind to retaliate and give him a taste of his own medicine.
Jake seems to read your mind, however, because he makes a dash for the shore before you can move to splash him back.
The sand dips beneath the soles of your feet as you chase after Jake, sending water droplets scattering up around you in frantic arcs. You think he’s running toward one of the inlets, the one where there’s a loose rock formation that allows you to venture further into the ocean. He stops where the sand bleeds into dark, jagged rocks, leaving you to catch up to him in seconds.
You barrel into his back and giggle as he turns around to hug you to his chest, shrieking when he lifts you up and your feet kick around aimlessly in the air. Your heart flutters in your throat as you look down to see Jake grinning up at you, eyes crinkled up endearingly and mouth opened around a boisterous laugh. His hands are warm where they’re holding your waist tight, fingers splayed out against your skin.
Jake sets you back down, chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath he takes. Your skin feels impossibly warm even after he’s let you go, and you find yourself unable to look away from him. Against the backdrop of the sun, he looks like an angel.
Wordlessly, he holds out his cupped hand to yours, and you reach out to accept with wide eyes. When he pulls back, you see that he’s left two seashells in the dips of your palms, small and round in shape. The bigger of them is tawny and has a dipping crevice in the middle, while the other is a pristine white with several ridges along its arch. They’re beautiful.
“Do you still collect these?” Jake’s question makes the butterflies in your chest stir.
“I do,” you murmur, feeling oddly bashful that he remembers. “The box is under my bed in Melbourne.”
The same wooden box he’d gifted you for your 16th birthday once you told him you kept all the shells he’d been giving you.
The two of you abandon your blanket and sit on the patch of damp sand you’ve been standing over. The yolk of the sun has begun to slip behind the ocean’s horizon, coloring the water and sky a brilliant red and sending cascading pockets of light along the shore. Jake’s gaze follows the length of the skyline and you can’t help it that yours strays to him.
There’s a rough, pink scar bridging across the length of Jake’s shoulder, one that you’ve never seen before. You’re no stranger to Jake’s recklessness out in the ocean, but the long span of it is unlike the rest you’ve seen on his skin. From its color alone you’re able to tell that he’s gotten it recently, and it hasn’t quite healed yet.
“This one’s new,” he says as if reading your thoughts. Jolting, your eyes snap back to his face to find him looking at you knowingly. “I was too close to an inlet and lost control of my board.”
You hum in response, reaching out to brush your fingertips against the blemished skin. It’s jagged under your touch, warm from where the sun’s kissed it, and you ache to lean down and run your lips over it. Jake exhales softly, head tilting the slightest bit so he can watch you.
“You’ve always been a bit clumsy,” you joke breathlessly, in an attempt to disregard the weird squirming in your chest. But then Jake continues to stare at you silently, and you shift nervously, hand pausing to hover above his back. “Guess you haven’t changed all that much.”
“Neither have you,” Jake mumbles, eyes still caught on your face, “you still look at me like that.”
You burn to ask him what he means, but your heart is stuck in your throat and you don’t think you can speak without saying something you’ll regret.
Yet in a way, you don’t need to ask him what he means. You think there has never been any need for explanations like this. You love Jake, and that’s true without all of the complexities that the statement conjures up. Past or present.
The lapping waves at the shore flood your ears like cotton. Jake’s face is so, so close, and yet it feels like he’s too far away. Like he’s always been.
“Hey,” he whispers, but the word crashes louder in your ears than the waves. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
You can’t speak, but the eagerness that bleeds into your nod is telling enough of just how you feel. Jake’s warm hand tenderly cups the side of your face to bring you closer, and right as another wave breaks onto the shore, his lips meet yours in an achingly gentle way.
He’s everything you remember– he tastes like ocean brine and spearmint gum and his favorite iced tea, remnants of the past and the future you’d yearned for. The calluses on his palm are familiar where they brush against your jaw as he angles your face to deepen the kiss, and you try not to practically whine into his mouth when his tongue slips past your lips.
Your hand travels up from his shoulder to tangle itself in his hair, weaving your fingers through his locks with an urgency that seems to throw both of you off guard. Jake giggles into the kiss when you tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, and you break off when you feel a string of laughter bubbling out of you in response.
“Wow,” he whistles, face adorably red as he tries to smooth his hair back into place. You snort at his predicament, though you suspect your own state isn’t much far off from his. When Jake reaches out to fix up your hair as well, you go quiet, watching him through your lashes.
The silence you lapse into is silent and comfortable, so unlike the standoffish moments you two shared just a few weeks earlier. The thought of how quickly things between you two changed startles you; you realize that you no longer think twice about all the intimate moments and touches you share with Jake, much less feel guilty for any of them.
The voice at the back of your head is no longer there to whisper incessant reminders of the past, reminders of things you should have never taken with you in your baggage to Melbourne.
“You hungry?” Jake’s question startles you back into the present, and without thinking, you nod eagerly once more. His answering laugh makes the tips of your ears burn red, but you’re far too focused on his proposition of food to care. “There’s a really nice diner in the next town over, and I’d love to take you there.”
“Okay, it’s a date,” you grin.
Jake grins back, and you decide there’s no use holding yourself back anymore. You love him.
Jake’s last competition for the season is scheduled the week before you’re set to leave for Melbourne. It’s a big one– his biggest yet– and in the days leading up to it, you’re not able to catch much of him outside of your shop.
He visits twice. Once to pick up an extra emergency repair kit in case something unpredictable happens during his practice sessions, and once to buy his usual Crunchy Peanut Butter Clif Bar. He tells you he’ll save it for the morning of the competition, kissing you on the cheek and sprinting out the door before you can “distract him further”. Whatever that means.
In a way, you don’t look forward to the competition. It serves as a constant reminder that you’re bound to leave at any moment, and of everything wrong that can happen with Jake out on the ocean. Though every competition carries that same latter risk, this particular one required its attendees to take on some of the highest waves your region had seen in years.
You worried for Jake, and as selfish as it was, for what would come of you two after.
“Stop moping, Jake will still be able to give you dick over in Melbourne,” Sunoo had chastised you one night over dinner, flicking a pickle at you.
You’d dodged it, crumpling up a tissue and tossing it right back at him. “Yeah, but it won’t be the same!”
Sticking to tradition, your friend group had decided to gather one last time for dinner before the tournament day. Jake couldn’t make it– that much was customary, too– and you found yourself glancing at the empty spot in the booth one too many times while eating.
It seemed like you couldn’t avoid talking about your fickle future with Jake, much less thinking about it. You knew that there was another conversation due soon, one which you refused to bother Jake with until he was finished with the season. But it was beginning to eat at you from the inside, slowly gnawing through your defense built on friends’ reassurances.
You’d just finally gotten ahold of Jake again, you weren’t ready to give him up so easily.
The shore is more crowded than you’ve ever seen it. Despite arriving relatively early to the tournament grounds, you and your friends had found the sand chaotically packed, with the only remaining spots to spread out a blanket being near the very back. Stopping by the slanted wooden walkway that leads down to the beach, you survey the entire length of the shore, hoping to find a spot with open space.
“Are you sure we’ve got the right place?” Heeseung frowns at the crowd, scrunching his nose up when a kid screams. Sunghoon shrugs, moving to check his phone.
“Surfing’s a big deal guys,” Sunoo chastises, “what? You don’t believe all these people are here for Jake?”
“I don’t think it’s that,” Jay sets down the cooler he’s holding, stretching his arms out with a groan. “I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never seen any beach this packed ever. Even when they had that free-entry hippie festival last summer.”
“There’s literally a poster,” you deadpan, pointing to the information bulletin board off to the side. Half of the board is taken up by a familiar, colorful poster, the same one your entire friend group had adamantly reposted onto your Instagram stories for days, plastered onto its surface. You resist the urge to laugh when a collective ohhh follows at your revelation.
Slowly but surely, your group makes it down to the beach with all of your belongings and elaborate signs, all donning Jake’s signature blue. The competitors are nowhere to be seen, so any plans of seeing Jake before everything begins are thrown out the window. You manage to squeeze yourselves further inward, not quite toward the front, but it’s better than the view you’d have to settle for in the very back.
As all of you busy yourselves with setting up the umbrella and blankets, Sunghoon slips away with the promise of returning with cold drinks. But by the time he makes it back, the audience has gotten impossibly larger, and the cardboard trays in both of his hands begin to teeter as he tries to nudge past the thickening crowd. Sunoo laughs at him, but is quick to rush over and take one of the trays into his own hold.
“This tournament’s for the entire Sunshine Coast,” Sunghoon says in a huff, passing around a plastic cup to everyone. “It’s the biggest event for surfing held in this region in decades. No wonder it’s so crowded.”
“Thanks Hoonie,” you smile. The drink is some odd concoction of fruit punch and other sweet juices you can’t recognize, but it’s refreshing and cold so it’s the most delicious thing to you.
Sunghoon nods, finding purchase on the blanket next to you. He takes a swig of his own drink and pulls back to watch the ice clink around in the cup. “The finalists from today are going to attend Nationals in Sydney. South Bondi, or something like that. That’s what the barista told me.”
Your eyes go impossibly wide, and you almost choke on the liquid in your mouth. Sunghoon pats you on the back while you cough it out, and you put your drink down lest you spill it over yourself. “Nationals? Fuck, I feel like I should know if my boyfriend is trying to qualify for Nationals…”
Jake had mentioned that the gravity of the tournament was greater than any of the previous ones he’d been part of, but you had absolutely no recollection of him mentioning the word nationals. You’re certain you know why he didn’t– the worry swelling in your gut is telling enough. But it’s followed with a burst of pride in your chest that makes you feel so giddy you’re sure the grin on your face looks stupid.
Once your coughing fit’s over, you reach down to pick up your cup and take another sip. But it’s then that you sense four pairs of eyes on you, and you look over to find your friends gawking at you. You curl in on yourself subconsciously, grin slowly melting at their expressions. “…What?”
“Boyfriend?” Sunoo all but yells, breaking the silence. The people around you throw weird looks in your direction, but you don’t pay them any mind.
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” You surmise that the dramatics aren’t unprompted in this situation because you truly hadn’t found a way to break your friends the news yet either, but could anyone blame you? In your eyes, there was no subtle way of announcing it.
“Ha! Heeseung, you owe me 100 bucks,” Jay claps, reaching to high five you. You return the gesture with an exasperated face, not too keen on being stuck between their childish feuds.
Heeseung dishes out the money from his wallet with a sour expression, handing it to Jay and shoving a middle finger in his face.
“No one’s going to congratulate her?” Sunghoon finally speaks up, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Shame on all of you.” Turning to you, he whispers, “Congrats, by the way.”
The other’s enthusiastic good wishes follow suit, and you can’t help the jaw-aching smile that splits your face. You pick up your cup and chase the last of the liquid in there, both to hide your grin and to quench your growing thirst.
By now, you’d gotten more than used to the routine of surf tournaments. You knew when to expect different sections, how long you’d be able to watch Jake out in the waves, and when to anticipate the final minutes. As the music from the judge’s panel diminishes and is replaced by a cheery, high-pitched voice, you sit back against the blanket and get comfortable.
The participants are all introduced with grandiose speeches that make the speakers crackle from the deafening volume. You make sure to whoop and holler extra loud when Jake Sim is announced, squinting against the beaming sun to try and spot his face among the line of surfers.
Jake clears all of his heats with an astounding performance and form. The audience oohs in tandem with each of his moves, and you have to prop yourself up on your knees halfway through to be able to properly see your boyfriend. You cheer and clap animatedly after he completes each series, heart beating faster with each swelling wave that he meets.
The judging panel also seems to love him. From the way they refuse to break their staring while he’s out on the waves to write anything, to the way they mumble amongst each other with dazed looks on their faces after every particularly difficult trick, you can’t help but feel proud. It’s almost disappointing watching him paddle toward shore and give way to the competitor after him.
Despite the intimidating waves, Jake handles himself well and is able to clear through his routine with ease. He doesn’t lose control of his board even for a moment, braving into the highest waves you’d ever seen him take on. The other participants also seemed to be doing well– though not quite as well as Jake– and you find yourself applauding and cheering after some particularly hard routines.
You think it should come as no surprise to anyone on that packed shore that Jake scores a remarkable lead in first place. He carries the highest wave scores throughout most of the tournament, only bettering them further as the heats pass. You get to watch him perform moves you’d never seen before, moves you’d only seen on the news performed by Australia’s best. He’s truly breathtaking in the water– you know you’d think this no matter who he was to you.
The awards ceremony almost makes you burst into tears. Jake’s gold medal is handed over by the main judge, who shakes his hand and pats him on the back as Jake accepts it with a deep bow. He reaches over to wrap his arms around the shoulders of the competitors who’d won second and third place, congratulating them with an earnest smile. When the flashes from the photographers become impossible to ignore, Jake turns to the cameras and brings his medal up to his mouth, biting down on it cheekily.
The crowd doesn’t begin to thin out for a long while. You’re not able to reach Jake until half an hour after the ceremony’s ended, your boyfriend occupied with on-the-spot interviews and eager fans waiting for a photo together. Meanwhile, Sunoo and Jay race back to the car to bring out the bouquet and balloons that you’d brought to surprise Jake.
When Jake is finally able to attend to his personal matters, he all but runs barefoot on the sand towards you, opening his arms in warning once he’s close enough. You yelp at the tight hug you’re all but swept up into, feet kicking out in the air under you when Jake lifts you and begins spinning you. 
“I’m so happy right now!” He shouts toward the sky, voice breathy from exhilaration.
“I’m so proud of you!” You shout back, ruffling his damp hair. The fringe falls into his face and you push it back so you can lean down and kiss him.
“I take back my congratulations,” Heeseung speaks up from behind you, and Jake sticks his tongue out at him before putting you down carefully. He moves to pat your boyfriend on the back, grin so wide it takes up half his face. “Just kidding. That was sick Jake, you killed it out there.”
Sunghoon and Jay echo the statement and barrel into Jake’s sides to hug him, wrangling him into their holds so they can hold him up in the air. Jake doesn’t even bother fighting against them, accepting the inevitable with a fond grin and rolling his eyes once they let up and put him back on the sand.
“And obviously he’s going to kill it in Sydney too,” Sunoo brandishes the bouquet from behind his back, holding it out for Jake to take.
Jake’s face flushes cutely as he accepts the flowers and balloons, posing for photos as you whip out your phone. The thin gold metal sits like a sun against his chest, illuminated with beams as you instruct Jake to turn toward the horizon. You decide that you’re going to set this one as your homescreen later.
As a few more of Jake’s friends from the academy come up to him to personally congratulate him, you hang back and watch him with a smile. Despite growing up, learning more tricks, and climbing his way to your region’s top spots, Jake’s humble attitude hadn’t changed. He still met the hand of fellow surfers and treated them like equals despite any rankings, refusing to let anyone put him up on an invisible pedestal.
The shore has somewhat cleared out by now, most of the people remaining being the competitors themselves and their friends and families. It’s no longer hot enough to make you feel like bursting, and you decide to jog down to the water to dip your feet into the ocean. The water’s cool against your warm skin, the tiny waves lapping at your ankles in rhythmic motions as you stand there and soak in the last of the afternoon sun.
Jake joins you along with the rest of your friends sometime later. You all stand ankle-deep in the water quietly, and when you look over at them, you can’t help the fond grin that blooms on your face.
“Are we celebrating at Auntie Lee’s?” Heeseung suddenly breaks the silence, and you can’t help but burst into laughter.
“We could,” Sunghoon shrugs. “Or we could just hang out here for a while.”
“Jake and I will join you guys later,” you say shyly, reaching for Jake’s hand. “I have to steal him away for a bit right now.”
“Thanks, I just threw up a little bit in my mouth,” Jay faux-gags, pretending to vomit. You pay him no mind.
You and Jake bid your friends goodbye with the premise that they’ll join you later and load his surfboard onto his car. When you finally set off toward your aunt’s shop, you heave a sigh of relief and lean back in the seat. The air conditioner’s broken now, meaning you have to rely on a crammed open window for pockets of fresh air, but even amidst the sweltering heat of the late afternoon, you’ve never felt better.
“I’m hoping that’s a good sigh,” Jake speaks up from the driver’s seat, “I’m driving as fast as the law allows me to, we’re almost there.”
Snorting, you lean against the door in an attempt to catch as much of the breeze filtering in. It’s a bit tricky, given that most of the surface is hot from sitting in the sun. “It’s good, I promise. Just really happy that everything went well with your tournament. And that I have you all to myself now.”
The food you’d prepared for him earlier in the day is sitting in the kitchen, lidded and ready to be portioned out. You and Sunghoon had dug out your aunt’s fancy dinner plates from the basement and cleaned them off for the occasion, setting the table with them in a manner decidedly too formal now that you’re looking at it again. There’s even a candle in the middle, awfully regal in its glass holder and waiting to be lit.
Jake snorts, but it’s fond. He loops an arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”
“I felt like cooking something nice for myself,” you tease. Kissing his cheek back, you move to shrug him off of you so you can sit down. “It just happened that your tournament was also today. Don’t let it get to your head.”
“How can I not when my girlfriend prepared a feast for me,” Jake exclaims, sitting down next to you and rubbing his hands. He peers closer at the dishes, eyes going wide at the contents of a particular pot. “Dude, galbitang? Just say you want to marry me and go.”
Your ears feel impossibly hot as you reach for the ladle and begin pouring some of the soup into your bowl. “Hey, less talking, more eating.”
If Jake notices your flushed face, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he silently reaches out with his chopsticks to begin filling your plate with the dumplings you’d made.
As much as you’d like to, the meal is too hefty for you to jump Jake straight after. Once the both of you finish eating and put away the remaining food, you wound up in your aunt’s living room, on her vintage floral couch that’s draped with a nostalgic white sheet.
Jake laughs when he sees it, carefully sitting in the middle so as not to get onto the actual couch. “God, I remember sitting here when we were kids, and your aunt wouldn’t let us watch TV unless we kept the couch covered.”
“I swear no one’s actually touched the real surface of the couch since she bought it in the 90s,” you groan as you settle into the cushions next to Jake. You feel pleasantly groggy, like you could fall asleep at any minute, and it doesn’t help that Jake is so warm and comfortable. “Remember that one time we tried sneaking in TimTams to eat here? I’ve never seen her angrier.”
“That was your idea, by the way, and second, I think she was angrier when we tried to hose down her roses in the backyard. Why were we so evil as kids?” Jake’s head finds its way onto your shoulder, and you try not to shake as you giggle.
Looking at the black TV screen across from you, you make out the matching smiles on both of your faces. It makes your stomach swoop, but you don’t think it’s from the good food you just had. Closing your eyes, you breathe in Jake’s shampoo and sigh. “I miss her a lot, I can’t wait for her to be back.”
You don’t notice you’ve begun dozing off until Jake startles next to you from a buzz in his pocket. Confused, you straighten up and watch as he looks down at his phone with a frown, rubbing at his eyes.
“Shit, Sunghoon texted me that they’re going to be back soon,” he mumbles.
“That sucks,” you say.
The two of you stare at each other for five still seconds, before Jake tosses his phone behind him on the couch and you practically pounce on him. You stagger onto your feet and pull Jake up with you, laughing as you all but race to your room down the hallway. Pushing open the door, you loop your arms around his neck and bring him in for a needy kiss, one you’ve been holding back all afternoon.
Jake shuts the door behind both of you, giggling against your lips when you huff impatiently. Your fingers sidle up under the hem of his shirt, brushing urgently against the heated skin you find. It was getting harder and harder to reel your self control back in around him, and now that you two were alone, you could barely resist jumping him like a predator. But who could blame you?
You also barely resist the triumphant noise that teeters behind your lips once Jake finally relents and takes his shirt off. It’s discarded somewhere in a corner of your room, forgotten as soon as it’s out of your sight. Your hands are back on him quicker than he can turn around, and when he leans down to press his lips against yours again, you feel him smile into the kiss.
“Jake,” you pant, palms drifting up his back with newfound desperation, “Jake, please.”
“Please what?” He teases, breaking off into a surprised groan when you lean down to bite his neck, suckling on the skin and running your tongue over the purpling bruise you leave behind.
Neglecting him of an answer, you continue your venture down his neck until you reach his collarbones. His hands are purposeful where they dip under your shirt to paw at the skin of your tummy and lower back, nudging the material higher and higher until you break off from his neck to take it off altogether.
Jake doesn’t let you continue marking him– instead, he’s the one that incessantly attaches his lips to your chest, tongue lathing over your nipple leisurely. His hand envelopes your other breast and kneads it while your breathing grows laborious, your head falling back as you weave your fingers through his hair. When he switches his attention to your other nipple, you decide you’ve waited long enough.
“If you don’t do something more I’m seriously going to explode,” you warn him, pulling him away from your chest. Jake barks a laugh, wiping at the spit on his chin with the back of his hand before letting you lead him toward your bed.
You fall backwards on the mattress easily, Jake towering over you with heady eyes. He picks up where he left off, plush lips dipping between your breasts and traveling further down with fervent motions.
“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles against the skin of your hip. The warmth fanning from his breath makes you go lax in his hold, and you hazily blink up at the ceiling in an effort to ground yourself.
His nimble fingers slip under the edges of your shorts, and with one quick look at your desperate nods, he begins tugging the material, along with your underwear, down your legs. Discarding the garment somewhere behind him, he hooks one of your knees over his shoulder, angling your other thigh outwards until you’re comfortably spread out for him. You inhale sharply at the cold air that meets your sensitive area, but the feeling is short-lived.
Jake leans in with an eagerness that has your breath catching in your throat. His lips suction right on your clit, and it takes every effort within you not to buck your hips wantonly into the feeling. His free hand settles warmly on your hip bone like a promise, holding you down against the sheets with a strength that only makes you squirm more.
Whining, you try to slow your breathing as his calloused fingers travel up your inner thigh and brush against your sopping entrance teasingly, where they catch strings of your growing arousal. You’re not normally this sensitive, already wriggling and gasping at the mere brush of his touch, but you reason that it’s because it’s him touching you.
You tense as one of his forefingers prods into you, slowly at first, then with a cocky certainty that makes you see stars. He sinks it into you until his last knuckle, curling it against your walls with growing fervor as you relax in his hold. As Jake adds a second finger, you reach out to weave your fingers through his locks, mewling when his grip on your hips tightens.
“I missed you so much,” he hums into your cunt between rolls of his tongue, groaning when you tug on his hair. “Fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy for such a long time. Can’t believe you’re finally mine again.”
Something in your chest squeezes, and you look down at him with glassy eyes.
It’s a sight that knocks the breath out of you. Jake’s eyes meet yours over the curve of your abdomen, and he takes the moment to lewdly spit directly onto your clit. He massages the saliva with tight figure eight motions, and combined with the rhythmic pumping from his other hand, it makes you feel like you’ll burst.
“I’m close,” you whisper, voice raw and spent. You feel strung out, like you’ve been stuck on the verge of an orgasm for an hour, when it probably has been five minutes at most.
Jake’s fingers squelch when he speeds up his motions, lapping incessantly at your clit as you continue to writhe helplessly. He looks up at you with dark eyes, fingers curling at just the right angle, and it’s enough to send you over the edge.
You come with a drawn-out whine, fingers clutching at his hair with desperation. You feel your thighs quiver before they settle on the mattress around Jake, exhaling deeply as you lean back into the sheets to calm down.
“Holy shit,” you laugh, covering your face as Jake crawls up next to you. He kisses the back of your hands, peppering more kisses along your arms, chest, neck, and whatever parts of your face he can reach. It only makes you giggle more, shying away from his affection with a racing heart.
“So good to me,” he mumbles, finally pressing his lips to yours. You sigh, looping your arms around his neck and leaning into his adoring touch with uncharacteristic bashfulness. Jake holds you like you’re made out of china, like you’re something precious, and the implications of that make your own heart throb with fondness.
Pulling away from the kiss, you push back on his chest gently, shuffling around so that you can sit up. “Lay down, I wanna ride you.”
You crawl over to one of your bedside drawers, tugging the top compartment open and feeling around until you can find what you’re looking for. As Jake leans back against the headboard and makes quick work of discarding his pants and boxers, you fish out the condom and join him so you can perch yourself on his lap. You tear open the foil, discarding it somewhere off to the side, and hold it up between you two like a gem.
“You’ve been planning for this, huh?” He teases, but you ignore him in favor of rolling the condom down his length. He watches you all the while, sucking in air through his teeth when you touch a particularly sensitive part of him.
“It’s hard not to when my boyfriend is so hot,” you answer, leaning down to kiss him again. His hands settle on your hips, and when you grind down on him experimentally, he practically moans into your mouth.
Leaning back on his lap, you reach down to align him with your entrance, pouting when your first two attempts to press him in fail. He’s awfully slippery with the lubricated condom, and you’re awfully nervous about the whole situation, so it’s no wonder your hands shake as you attempt to do it again. You let out a frustrated laugh, frowning when his cock flops back onto his stomach and you’re left hovering above his lap.
“Let me,” he whispers, gripping his length and holding your hip attentively. He pushes his tip in slowly, eyes trained on your face for any signs of discomfort, and biting his lip as he sinks further. About halfway in, you feel him pause reluctantly, and you hiss as you clench around him.
“Love, you’ve got to relax. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away from him when you feel your face begin to burn from embarrassment. Jake’s hands envelop your sides to bring you close to him, and you bury yourself in his shoulder as he slips out from underneath you. “I’m just really nervous. Don’t want to mess this up.”
His hand begins to draw patient, comforting circles on your lower back. You feel your breaths begin to even out, along with your racing heart, and you turn your head to leave grateful kisses along Jake’s neck. He shudders and hugs you tighter. “You’re okay. Let me know when you’re ready.”
And that’s the thing– because despite running from your feelings, running from him, Jake has never once let his patience run thin with you. He’s always been right there, waiting for you to come back, waiting for you to love him back with the same certainty that he always has.
It feels entirely unfair. But as you look back at his glittering eyes, at the handfuls of adoration in each of them, you feel your jitteriness slip away and become replaced with wholehearted sureness.
“I’m ready,” you say with conviction, pulling back to rest your hands on his toned chest. “Jake Sim, I’m about to rock your fucking world.”
Jake’s laughter sounds like bells in the springtime. He leans back to watch you push him back in, letting out a drawn-out sigh when he bottoms out and the backs of your thighs meet his hips. The shaky moan that slips from you feels too loud in the quietness of your bedroom, but you can't find it in you to feel shy as Jake’s cock drags leisurely against your walls.
Despite how weak you feel, you’re able to build up a steady rhythm with your hips. With each downward thrust, you revel in the way Jake’s eyes follow you, and in the soft sounds that are coaxed out of his mouth. You reach out to push away the fringe that has fallen into his face, cupping his face for a brief moment before your hand snakes down between your bodies to rub at your clit.
You keen at the feeling, but your fingers are quickly replaced by Jake’s own, which nudge at the bundle of nerves with growing urgency. His hips are rocking back up in tandem with your thrusts, eyebrows furrowed and lips wrapped around a breathy moan that reverberates around the room and makes the heat in your stomach triple.
You feel like a mess; you’re breathing heavy and your skin’s all sweaty and your thighs are burning with the effort to make both of you feel good. But Jake looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and it makes you forget about everything else.
“I’m really close,” you breathily laugh. Your hips begin to stutter as you feel the growing wave in your abdomen swell higher and higher with each of your motions, slowly losing all sense of coordination. Jake doesn’t seem to mind all too much though.
“Me too,” he mumbles the sentiment. The flush on his face has spread to his neck and chest, a pleasant rhubarb shade that you can make out even in the darkness. He’s so lovely, and all yours.
Jake’s thumb on your clit hastily adds more pressure as your breath quickens. Your vision grows blurry at the edges but you can’t look away from Jake, whose eyes are boring into yours.
“Jake, I’m so close, m’cumming, God, please, Jake–” your babbling is cut off when your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, pulling you under and rendering you breathless. You distantly feel your thighs shake around Jake’s hips as you ride it out, followed by a drawn out groan from his side when he hits his own high.
Your heart is pounding in your ears when you slip Jake out of you, and you barely have enough energy to roll off of him before flopping down on the bed. You still don’t quite feel like you’re on the ground, brain all mushy and struggling to piece the night’s events together. A part of you is convinced you’re dreaming, if the hazy ringing in your ears is anything to go by.
“Sweet girl,” Jake coos, brushing the hair that’s gotten in your face. He reaches over the side of the bed to fish his underwear out from the messy pile, tugging the briefs on and standing up. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
The ceiling of your room is bleached a moon white from the light streaming in outside. You listen with a racing heart and heaving chest as Jake rummages around in your bathroom, returning seconds later with a damp rag in hand. He maneuvers your legs around so he can wipe up the worst of your mess, gently hushing you when you whine from the drag of it against your sensitive skin.
“I really hope Sunghoon and the others aren’t back yet,” he quietly giggles, discarding the rag off to the side once he’s cleaned himself up.
“We warned them earlier,” you mumble sleepily. You can already feel an ache settling into your knees and lower back, but decide that it’s a problem for tomorrow’s you to worry about.
Jake lays down next to you and props himself up on his elbow to look at you. Even in the bleak darkness, you can make out the way his eyes won’t drift away from you, the way their edges crinkle when you giggle. Feeling shy, you pull the blanket up to your chin and try to hide behind it.
Jake doesn’t take any of it though. He slips right under the blanket with you, fingers immediately reaching for your sides to try and tickle you. You give up almost immediately, shrieking with laughter and begging him to stop while your feet thrash around.
“You can’t hog the whole thing,” he laughs, “I’m getting cold out here!”
Instead of answering, you drop the blanket on top of both of you and use your free arm to loop around his neck, bringing him in for a tight hug. You nudge your face into his bare chest and kiss him on one of his older scars, whose outline is so faint you can barely make it out anymore.
“How are you feeling?” Jake whispers.
He moves to wrap an arm around your waist and you throw one of your legs over his hips. He’s warm, and you can faintly hear his thrumming heart and each breath he takes. His hand is pleasant against your lower back where he traces meaningless shapes into the curve of your spine.
“I love you so much,” you answer. And you mean it.
Jake’s hand continues without pause, and you think you feel him smile against the top of your head. His lips are soft where they press a kiss to your hair.
“I love you too,” he says. And you know he means it.
Melbourne Central has always felt like hell, but today it seems exceptionally so.
You’d think the entire city has spilled into the railway station at once with how crowded the platforms are, each person practically shoulder to shoulder with the next. After an entire day of traveling, you’re beyond spent and in desperate need to be back home, so it’s with tired feet that you attempt to trudge through the chaos.
“Don’t get lost on me now,” you hear Jake’s familiar voice from next to you, and the weight from your luggage on your hand disappears. “Hold onto me, I need to make sure I deliver you in one piece or Sunghoon’s going to kill me.”
You loop your arm around Jake’s bicep and wince as he maneuvers the both of you through the crowd. Both of you begin to sound like broken records with how often you’re mumbling pardon us and different variations of sorry as you squeeze yourselves past different groups of people. Overhead, the announcer’s monotone voice about a delayed train arrival blends into the amalgamated mess of noise in the station, and you swear you’re going to go insane if you don’t get out of there fast.
Outside, the pleasant autumn sun has you squinting up at the sky and reveling in the fresh air that greets you. Jake tells you that the taxi he ordered is here, and you have only a few seconds to take in the world around you before you’re being whisked away again. As you haul your luggage into the back of the car and cram into the back with your boyfriend, you lean over to watch the city pass you by through the window and tune everything else out.
It’s weird, being in the same position you were in just a few months ago. Familiar buildings fly you by but you’re no longer stricken by grief or holding back tears as you watch them disappear. The feeling in your chest is bittersweet– you’re looking back on this summer with a smile and a warm heart. You’d reconciled with everything you’d been avoiding, and came back with more than you could’ve ever hoped for.
“We’re here,” Jake says, and you blink your hazy thoughts away. Looking over, you find that he has one of your hands in his own, thumb smoothing over your skin gently as if he can read your mind. You smile, squeeze his hand, and step out of the taxi.
Against your complaints, Jake takes on doing most of the work of taking your luggage up to your apartment. He doesn’t let you carry any of the heavier bags, rushing to grab them once he’s hauled them out of the taxi before you can even reach for them. You’re left trailing behind him, trying not to make your leering too obvious as his arms bulge under the weight of your luggage.
The door to your apartment opens with a high-pitched squeak. You trudge in slowly, taking in the sun-lit hall with wide eyes. It’s exactly like you remember leaving it, but now Jake’s standing in the middle of the tiny space, looking around with a grin so earnest it makes your heart swell. You know that it’s only a matter of time before everything here reminds you of him too.
“We’ve got some cleaning to do,” Jake notes as he passes by the dusty shelf in your living room. Looking out the floor-length window that takes up the entirety of one of the walls, he whistles and turns to you with his face lit up. You distantly think it reminds you of a smiling dog, only that his tongue isn’t out. “Yo, this view’s crazy! You can see so much of the center from here. I’d kill to be waking up to this every morning.”
“We do have some nice surfing spots a short drive away,” the implications of your words are clear as day, and Jake’s eyes narrow at you playfully. “What? I’m just saying.”
Jake looks out the window again, humming as his eyes trace the edges of the buildings that stand out against the horizon. You feel a bit nervous being so brazen with your future intentions, but everything Jake’s said and done so far has led you to believe he’s on the same page. “I’ll think about it when I finish this term. I’m serious about getting my degree, but I’m not against seeing your pretty face when I come home every day.”
Nodding, you try not to let the excitement bleed out onto your face, but it’s impossible when Jake’s words sound like a promise. “Hey, when do you need to go back for uni, anyway?”
“My term doesn’t start for another week,” he glances back at you and pouts. “Why are you trying to get rid of me so soon?”
You can feel the tips of your ears reddening and you quickly shake your head. “No no, I just wanted to make sure you don’t end up missing your own important stuff. I’d want you to stay here forever if it were up to me.”
“Right,” Jake drawls, and he rounds the couch to attach himself to your back. You feel every curve of him pressed up against you, and with the way his arms snake around your waist and his hands inch under your shirt, you know exactly where this is headed. “Just so you know, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to.”
“And just so you know, the building in front of us can see everything through these windows,” you say, but Jake’s hands remain incriminatingly low on your hips.
You feel the sigh of his laughter fan out against your neck and your breath hitches. “That’s fine, you’ve still gotta show me your bedroom anyway. So I know where to put our bags.”
“Mhm,” you agree, and the disappointed noise you make when he lets go of you is embarrassingly loud. Jake giggles, and you waste no time in dragging him by the wrist through your apartment.
“My bed’s big enough for the both of us, so you can just sleep with me while you’re here,” you open your bedroom door and usher Jake in after you. It’s cute how nervous he looks standing around, unsure of where to sit or what to look at first. “And stop making that face! You’d think I kidnapped you and I’m holding you hostage.”
After enough coaxing and changing into clean clothes, you and Jake both end up sitting on the edge of your bed, but his mannerisms are still telling of how anxious he feels. His movements are all jittery and his hands run repeatedly over his knees, almost like he’s wiping the sweat off his palms. “It’s just crazy to think about the fact that you have a whole different life here. I don’t know where I’m supposed to fit in, and it’s really hitting me now that I’m actually here, y’know?”
“Jake,” you softly prompt him to look at you, frowning when his eyes meet yours and you see the same uncertainty that you were struggling with in them. You cup his face gently and thumb at the skin of his cheek, whispering, “I can promise you that you’ve got nothing to worry about. There’s more than enough space for you in my life. There always has been.”
With the way he leans into your touch, you can tell that he believes you.
You both lay back against the mattress, if only to rest for a second before you know you’ll have to inevitably get up again. But before you can move to sit up, Jake’s hovering above you with a knowing grin, and you can’t complain much as he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s soft at first, nothing more, but then he’s cupping your jaw and slipping his tongue in between your lips and you know where this is headed.
“We should unpack first,” you half-heartedly mumble between kisses. Jake begins kissing down your neck, and you groan, head falling backwards. Your words come out increasingly less convincing with each vowel, until there’s absolutely zero conviction in everything you’re saying. “We should really… we’ll be too lazy later…”
“That’s no way to welcome your guest,” Jake pouts against your skin. 
You let him continue venturing down your neck until he’s slipping the shoulder of your t-shirt off, eager to get his mouth on your chest, when you startle in his hold and make him pause. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I just have something to show you,” you laugh, sitting up and scooting to the edge of your bed. You clamber down onto the ground and look under your bed, reaching out to unearth the box you’d suddenly remembered.
“The box of seashells you gave me,” you tell Jake. You place the box carefully on your bed and begin to rummage through your backpack for the ones he’d given you right before kissing you.
The box is a tiny wooden thing with a metal clasp in the front that opens with a bit of force. You open it and let Jake peek inside, placing your newest additions inside with careful hands. Jake’s jaw is slack as his fingers poke at the different seashells you’d accumulated over the years of knowing him, bottom lip jutting out as he turns to look at you.
“You really kept all of them,” he mumbles in awe.
“Well I wasn’t going to throw them away.” You joke, closing the box and placing it on your nightstand. “Besides, they meant a lot to me. Still do.”
Wordlessly, Jake leans down to kiss your exposed shoulder. He rests his cheek against the skin there, and you reach out to card one of your hands through his unruly hair. It’s not damp from the ocean or sandy after one of his surfing sessions. It’s soft under your fingers, tousled after a long day of traveling, and it smells faintly of mint. 
“You know what I think?”
Jake hums questioningly, peering up at you through his lashes.
“I think we should shower. Then continue where we left off, if you still want, and then nap. Like for a while. And then we can go to that diner down the street I kept telling you about.”
Jake smiles against your shoulder and leans up to kiss you on the nose. You cup one of his cheeks and thumb at the faint freckle near his temple. He looks beautiful, like all of the sunsets you’d seen in your hometown, all of the seashells you’d collected, and all of the roses in your aunt’s backyard.
The edge of Jake’s lips quirks up at your offer. You kiss him before you can respond, and revel in the dazed look and breathy response you draw from him. He’s beautiful, and all yours. “Yeah, I think that sounds like a great idea.”
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author's note: if you've read all the way down to here i hope your pillow is cold on both sides, always. i worked very hard on this baby and i hope that whoever reads it enjoys it at least a fraction of the amount that i enjoyed writing it 🤍 if you did enjoy, leave a comment and reblog, it means the world to me!!! support your writers!
taglist: @enhastolemyheart, @fakeuwus, @jakesimsgf, @hannivrse, @jayk2025, @bluesoobinnie, @luvvsjungwonn, @cha0thicpisces, @thejjrl, @sweetjaemss, @ohmykwonsoonyoung, @yaatrickyaaa, @albono-bueno, @itstessasblog, @emiliasstuffs-blog, @ddeonugu, @bloobworld, @loveleejn, @flower-lise, @jayfrvr
©nightdiary 2024. do not repost.
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yenqa · 3 months
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10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU — TEASER
READ HERE!
in which...
you hate heeseung. you hate his snobby little voice, his stupid little glasses that are too big for him, his nosiness, and his ability to prove anything or anyone wrong easily. you hate hate hate the way you try to avoid him, but somehow he’s always around, and he can’t see how much you hate him. you swear nothing could make you like him, but after you get caught in a sticky situation with him playing your knight in shining armor, you realize that maybe he isn’t so bad after all.
pairing — heeseung x fem!reader
genre — one sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, he falls first she falls harder, oblivious x obvious, tutor x tutoree (kind of), childhood friends (ish because the whole one sided enemies thing) to lovers, long fic
wordcount — teaser is 1005! fic est. 9k-13k words (hopefully not too ambitious)
warnings — profanity, kissing (no suggestive stuff or nsfw), miscommunication, parties/underage drinking, name calling (bitch, whore, stuff like that), food
featuring — lia of itzy, miyeon of g-idle, hyung line of enhypen (sorry maknaes too many people), ocs : sooyun + teachers
disclaimer — i am not saying this is an accurate representation of these idols or trying to sexualize them at all. this just something i do for fun.
release date — hopefully by mid march?
taglist — open! send an ask or comment to be added!
yenqa — watched the movie on the plane and i was kind of obsessed… but this does not follow the movie plot, i just thought the title fit
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YOU WATCH AS THE SNOW FALLS SLOWLY TO THE GROUND
A blanket of white has got you and the guests at your house locked in for the night. You weren’t very happy with these strangers staying at your house for the night—In fact, you had just been completely shut down by your dad when you asked him to kick them out. It was obvious why he did that, but this definitely had to be your least favorite christmas out of the eight you had been through.
You snap out of your thoughts, continuing to eat whatever you had left on your plate, hesitating when you saw the amount of vegetables still left.
“Mom! I’m full.” You try to hide your plate from her, showing her instead a pout with a hand on your stomach. 
It didn’t work—obviously, so you were stuck at the table, a frown on your face as you forced in the greens. Across from you, a boy your age, who didn’t seem to mind, he almost looked like he was enjoying it.
That’s impossible though, no one likes vegetables. Maybe he was doing it so Santa would get him an extra special gift?
You grumble when he finishes his place, showcasing his plate that had been licked clean to his mom. He stared at you for a second looking down at your—full plate then looking back at his mom, she said “Great job Heeseung!”. He returns his plate to the table with a smile. 
Stabbing your fork back into your food, you stuff it into your face, hoping that you would enjoy it as much as Heeseung did. Again, it didn’t work, and the bitter taste returned to your mouth.
After what felt like hours of groaning and complaining, you had taken the last bite of your food, a proud smirk on your face when you made eye contact with the boy from earlier, who only smiled at you in return. 
Throwing away your plastic plate, you realized that now it was present time, and Santa just had to reward you for your good deeds.
Rushing over to the tree, you spot everyone gathered around the area, opening their presents. You run to your present, recognizing the wrapping paper from last year. Looking at your mom for approval, she nods and you tear apart the paper, lifting up the box inside.
You squeal when you see the picture, you had been begging your mom for weeks for a Lego set, specifically if it was minecraft themed. And Santa had gotten you just that. You hug the box, squeezing it. You exclaim a loud “Thank you Santa!” before running up to your room to assemble the build.
Reading the directions, you start the house, quickly getting confused on how it isn’t looking like how it does in the picture. 
“I think that’s the wrong piece.” A voice says, you whip your head around to see the same boy who sat across from you.
“Who are you?” Your eyebrows furrow at the sight, confused on why those were the first words he said instead of “Hi!” or something.
“My name’s Heeseung—Um, my mom told me to come upstairs and said we should be friends. Do you want to be friends?” 
You huff, “I’m Y/n. Also no, I don’t want to be friends, you’re mean.” You force your legos together, frustrated already with the pieces. You continue to reread the directions, pushing—what you think are—the exact legos to the board. But it doesn’t seem like it’ll fit. Maybe if you push it harder?
“Oh—okay.” You jump slightly, too focused to realize how he's been watching you for the past few minutes. “Do you need some help?”
Yes, you need help. But did you want to accept his help?  . This was your christmas gift from Santa, you shouldn’t have to share.
Glancing at the picture then to the building that had looked like an abstract rendition of it, you let out a sigh. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt, right? “Yeah, I guess.”
He takes a seat on the carpet next to you, focusing hard on the directions before breaking off the wrong pieces, reassembling it so you’ll be on the right track.
“Does this go here, do you think?” “No, it goes here.”  That was a summary of what the conversation was between you, and somehow you were always the one asking the question. Sighing, you lean back, taking a short stretch break before starting again.
You’re shocked at his speed and efficiency, it almost seems like he’s always a step ahead of you. Geez does this guy ever slow down? 
The roles are quickly switched as you are sitting watching him instead. Rummaging through each box only for his eyes to lighten up one he finds the right one. You watch him for a while, getting a break that you very much needed.
You hope that he waits for you to finish it, or that he doesn’t completely do it all by himself because again,  it’s your Christmas gift, and he wouldn’t do that, right?
Not right, because apparently he’s a machine—he finishes the build. He stands up, pushes his stupid glasses up also and smiles at you, heading to the door. You think he’s going to say something else like “Sorry for taking away your present!” instead, he thanks you for sharing and happily skipping away. 
Heeseung. Even his name infuriates you. He was very unpredictable and you hated that. Why did he just do that? He’s so rude. People don’t make sense—especially boys, they have cooties.
Your head was filled with calling him the rudest things you could think of—You even said a few curse words.
Though later you realized that you probably would never see him again, you were ecstatic, so ecstatic you had disassembled your legos just to rebuild it, to completely forget about your bad experience with the boy. 
Only two weeks later were you disappointed to see that same boy, sitting across from you during dinner once again.
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perm taglist — @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee @hanniluvi @teddywonss
yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
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jongseongsnudes · 4 months
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all yours
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ex-fwb!jake. 1.9k words. toxxxxxxic smut.
“can we fuck?”
“can we what now?”
“please,” he responds a little too quickly over the phone, desperation lacing his tone, “i need you.”
not even ten minutes later, and the man is standing at your front door. he’s dressed in his usual tee and sweatpants combo, something so simple yet so ridiculously breath taking on him. he topped it all off with a black cap, the thing covering most of his face as if wanting to be lowkey. as if not wanting anyone to know he was here at yours.
before you could greet him or ask what the hell he was doing here, the man moves at lightning speed, closing the gap between your bodies. his hands are already at your neck, holding you in place as he smashes his lips onto yours.
the last time you saw him was three weeks ago, when he ended the friends with benefits arrangements with you, saying he wanted to explore things with a super hot girl he met. and you hadn’t spoken to him since.
so the last thing you expected tonight was for him to call you at 1am, let alone be at your apartment... kissing you.
he slightly pushes forward, welcoming himself into your home and closing the door behind him with his foot. your back is quickly met with the hallway wall with his body now pressed firmly against you, cornering you in.
the man kisses you, hard, like his life depended on it. there were times when jake was rough, usually when he was stressed out but this, this was something else. like he was so desperate for you.
and this drove you crazy.
but no matter how in the moment you were feeling, the fact that this man was supposedly pursuing or even with another girl, kept ringing in the back of your head. knowing jake and his fuckboy ways, the man could very much be in a messy situation and the last thing you wanted was add yourself into the mix.
it takes every bit of you to pull your lips away from his, only slightly, but your gazes remain on each other in the dimly lit hallway. it’s now that you realise the waft of alcohol coming from the man, like he’d been drinking before coming here.
“you’ve been drinking. don’t tell me you were stupid enough to drive here.”
“a beer, don’t worry. i just really wanted to see you.”
“i’ve told you so many times, don’t drink and drive,” you sigh your words and push him off of you, leaving him be in the hallway as you walk into the kitchen, the man quickly following behind.
“why are you even here? does that girl of yours know?”
“we fought,” he begins, fingers threading his hair as he approaches you, “she’s a headache already and she’s not even my girlfriend.”
“so you’re only here because you guys fought and you’re not getting ass?” a little chuckle spills from your lips as you turn to look at him, amused at all the audacity. “wow. you sure know how to make me feel special jake.”
apart of you was hoping that he’d tell you different, that he’d show up tonight and tell you that he was no longer seeing her. you know it’s crazy but you’ve never liked sharing jake so you were glad when things ended when they did...
because you were getting way too close to that thin line between fucking and everything thereafter.
“look i’m tired, i’m sure you have plenty of others to hit up tonight,” you say with a yawn and pat his chest, “shut the door on your way out-”
you’re only able to take two steps before his hand is on your arm, pulling you right back to him. and before you could even complain, the man lifts you up onto the countertop by the waist, his body immediately settling in between your dangling legs to stop you from moving away.
the smell of his cologne, once so familiar to you, immediately heightens all of your senses. it’s one you’ve become so used to, one you’ve come to loved so much after spending countless nights with him.
but that was the past, he was with someone else now.
“jake. we can’t do this.”
“we can baby, who’s stopping us?”
that god damn petname, the one he always uses when he wanted something. and every single time, you’d give in, giving him just about everything he wanted.
and judging by how your body is reacting, you know you’re about to do the exact same thing this time too.
give in to jake sim.
sensing your lack of response, the man leans in, his face now in the crook of your neck. he kisses you gently, his soft lips leaving a trail down the side of your neck where he knew you were the most sensitive.
the man knew so much about you. where to hold, where to touch, where to kiss to get your body burning and yearning for him. you hated this, hated how easily he could have you wrapped around his finger without doing much.
you struggle a bit but successfully push him off, your hands now at his chest to stop him from kissing you. his half lidded gaze immediately has you pooling in your panties, a reminder how he used to look at you every time he wanted you.
“you know you shouldn’t be here,” you whisper, your words more so for yourself than him, “you’re with someone now.”
“baby. you know she means nothing to me, no one can replace you.”
he doesn’t give you the time to respond, instead swooping in to kiss you again. his lips feel so unbelievably soft against yours, just like how you remembered the first time he kissed you. months ago yet feels like it just happened yesterday, kissing him at that random party and letting him fuck you right there and then in the upstairs bedroom.
jake always had this effect on you, even now.
“i only ever want you, you know that right?” his hands are already at the ends of your night gown, pulling the thin piece of material higher and higher up on your thighs as he continues kissing you, “you’re so pretty. the prettiest.”
you’re no longer fighting him, your mind too focused on his fingers that are now drawing circles in your inner thigh. he’s just so close to where you needed him most, your poor core already throbbing at the mere thought of him being inside of you.
you’ve missed him so much that just him being here excited you, more so than any other man have in the past few weeks.
“you’ll let me fuck you right baby?”
you don’t bother replying and wrap your arms around his neck instead, pulling the man in to kiss him. you’d be lying, especially to yourself, if you said you didn’t want this.
a shiver runs through your body as he hastily rips your panties off in one go, leaving your core so bare and ready for him to fill. it’s not long before the man is also bare, his throbbing erection already oozing of precum that he’s rubbing against your thighs, desperately humping you.
“this pussy... is mine,” he pushes into you without warning, without hesitation, immediately filling you to the very brim. he’s already so deep, stretching every part of you along the way but he doesn’t care and at this point, neither do you.
it’s uncomfortable at first, your tightness attempting to take as much of him as possible. to say he was big, was quite the understatement, something you’ve learned right from the start. it always surprised you how he could fit it all in of you, even without the foreplay.
but then again, he did always have you so wet and prepared for him, always so eager to take him no matter what.
“you’re mine. all mine. right?”
“yours jake, all yours.”
you’re too caught up in the moment, throwing your head back without thinking much besides how good it felt to have jake sim fucking you. every word, every kiss, every thrust is already bringing you closer and closer to your release. it’s obvious you’ve been so desperate for him, so needy with the way you’re already moaning his name.
words become foreign to you, the only thing on your lips are sounds you didn’t even know were possible to make.
so whiny, so pathetic, so sinful.
and all for jake sim.
you watch through blurred vision as he lays his head into the crook of your neck, his grip gradually tightening more with every one of his thrusts. he kisses your neck again, even going as far as sucking on a particular spot he knew would have your head spinning.
but just as much as he knew you, you knew him as well. and judging by his current stance, you were sure he was about to finish. his angling, his deep grunts, his grip on your body, all signs that the man was desperate to reach his end.
and luckily for you, the same feeling was finally approaching. that familiar knot in the pit of your core that is screaming to be released. you claw at him then, fingers tangled in his hair, his black cap long gone.
it’s not often that you guys finish together but when it does happen, you always feel as though you’re floating on cloud nine. your entire body feels as light as air, like nothing else mattered in that moment but you and him, your bodies completely entangled together.
just like right now.
his name is the only thing on your lips as you reach your peak, your juices mixing with his hot spurts of cum that was already leaking out onto your thighs. your nightgown, his hair, the cum on your thighs, all so messy just like the mess you just got yourself in for letting jake sim into your apartment tonight.
“fuck- that was crazy,” he runs his fingers through his hair, fixing all the strands sticking out from you pulling on it earlier. the man slowly pulls out of you, leaving you to gasp at the sudden empty feeling and of course... of the cum that is continuing to spill out of you.
*ding*
*ding*
*ding*
your brows immediately raise at how quick he reached for his phone from the countertop, as if to prevent you from seeing the new messages. it’s a no brainer who the sender was based off the smirk on his face but apart of you still held onto the small chance that it wasn’t.
that it wasn’t her, calling for him to come back.
“hey uh- i gotta run.”
sigh. of course.
“uh- the boys are looking for me,” he explains without even looking at you, the man too busy wiping himself off before getting dressed. all done so at record speed. “see you around pretty.”
you had barely gotten off the countertop but the man was already off on his way, disappearing out of your apartment just as fast as he had appeared. even leaving behind his favourite cap on your kitchen floor.
there was nothing for you to do besides laugh, laugh at being fucked over by the one man you said you’d stay away from. you weren’t stupid, you just had a weak spot for him and he knew this very well.
but this was it. if he wanted to play, so were you.
and it was all going to happen tomorrow night at your friend’s party, where you were certain both jake and his new girl would be at.
to be continued.
2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  
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fakeuwus · 6 months
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UNDERSTAND | park jongseong smau (ongoing)
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now playing ☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°。 understand by keshi
"maybe we could try, if you let me"
PAIRING: idol!jay x idol!yn (femreader)
SYNOPSIS: coming fresh off your debut, you get invited to be a part of the revival for the beloved variety show 'We Got Married'. what happens when you find yourself falling for your "husband", as he's the perfect partner on and off screen?
FEATURING: enhypen, son jiwoo, moon chanelle, choi jihyun, bang jeemin, + other idols!
GENRE: smau, crack(ish?) (its just me trying my best to be funny but i have the humor of a 12 y/o boy), fluff, angst, idol au, fake dating?
WARNINGS: suggestive jokes, suggestive content(just making out and lots of TENSION!), couple stuffs, will specify in chapters if needed, ignore timestamps and dates!!!
MESSAGE FROM NIC: ahh my first smau!!! sent this prompt to @enmayz on anon and now im bringing it to life :3 IM SO EXCITEDD it's my first smau and im getting the hang of things, so pls be nice!! feedback is always appreciated as well :D
TAGLIST: OPEN (send a ask or comment to be on it!)
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PROFILES: worst group ever | ENHA ENHA ENHA
CHAPTER 1: ill choke you in your sleep
CHAPTER 2: we live in a Society . 😕
CHAPTER 3: that's not very pride month of u
CHAPTER 4: u mean *OUR girlfriend
CHAPTER 5: jay pookie nation???
CHAPTER 6: mentally physically weak .
CHAPTER 7: im a sensitive little fella
CHAPTER 8: the eyes chico, they never lie 😔
CHAPTER 9: bros got attachment issues idk!
CHAPTER 10: JAYYN NATION RISE
CHAPTER 10.5: see you loverboy!
CHAPTER 11: copium 💀
CHAPTER 12: omg i love jungkook sunbaenim
CHAPTER 13: eunchae... 😡😡😡😡😡😡
CHAPTER 14: call that idgafism
CHAPTER 15: — ch*emin happend
CHAPTER 16: — floppy disk or balls
CHAPTER 17: —
CHAPTER 18: —
CHAPTER 19: —
CHAPTER 20: —
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© fakeuwus 2023 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
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slmjaeyuns · 8 months
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ jake sim fics that make my heart go pitter patter⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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beautiful pieces of art written for my most beautiful boy
~~ a new, updated fic rec list for the boy who owns my heart because i be reading okay, y’all *cries*
part one / first jake fic rec list here!!
warning: there are suggestive themes/smut that may be embedded throughout the fluff and angst fics as well)! please dni if that makes you uncomfortable!! (jake x afab reader/gn reader) minors dni, please‼️
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
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all time favourites ♡
fics contain a combination of genres including fluff, angst, suggestiveness, smut)
♡ rule number 1: don’t fall in love
♡ kiwi and layla
♡ hold me like you always do
♡ 14 steps to a better you
♡ pocky
♡ always
♡ monkey bars (part one)
♡ roman holiday
♡ to all my firsts with you
special ending
♡ you are in love
♡ the set up
♡ midnight rain (back to you)
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fluff ❀
❀ cupid
❀ classmate au
❀ chapsticks
❀ 6:17am
❀ our kimchi
❀ sim jaeyun - the one with things that happen in your friendship
❀ i find my paradise
❀ strawberries and cigarettes
❀ that’s how you get the girl
❀ good girl
❀ go ahead*
❀ 21:14*
*ps: my potterhead self (who happens to be a slytherin) was squealing and kicking my feet reading these two likeeeee eeeeeeepp
❀ wait, date?
❀ try again
❀ sunday mornings
❀ 8:30pm
❀ speak now
❀ home = you
❀ in another universe
❀ care and love
❀ is that seat (=are you) taken?
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angst ☽
☽ cupid’s mistake
☽ was this shirt always so big?
☽ can you please come over
☽ i’m low on gas and you need a jacket
☽ wish you back
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suggestive/smut ☁︎
☁︎ body on me
☁︎ grateful sinners
☁︎ cruel summer
☁︎ two best friends in a room
☁︎ dying to drive but you can’t find the keys
☁︎ coffee and mathematical physics
☁︎ tease
☁︎ how jake kisses you
☁︎ bestfriendsbrother!jake drabble
☁︎ the taste of you
☁︎ he’s yours, but am i?
☁︎ silly competitions
☁︎ prove it
☁︎ focus
☁︎ fwb!jake
☁︎ can i kiss you?
☁︎ take me away
☁︎ forgotten consequences
☁︎ brand new moves
☁︎ help you out
☁︎ addict
☁︎ talk me down
☁︎ for old times sake
☁︎ get off that stupid game
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leaderwonim · 4 months
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SEASONS
⤻ pairing. popular!sunghoon x shy!reader (ft nishimura riki and hanni from nwjns)
⤻ genre. fluff, hints of angst, brother’s best friend to lovers trope (reader is heeseung’s sister) forbidden love kinda
⤻ synopsis. park sunghoon, the notorious playboy who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend, was off limits. heeseung had made it clear to you during your freshman year of high school, and the rule still hasn’t changed even when entering your senior year. but what lee heeseung doesn’t know won’t hurt him right?
author’s note: wrote this out of boredom after listening to seasons by wave to earth 🥹 i love that song with all my heart. riki is so unserious lmao i love him. COMMENTS & REBLOGS are always appreciated 🤞
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“he’s off limits,” heeseung says as he swings by your desk, watching as you scrolled through your Instagram feed, a post of sunghoon’s passing by. “i saw you stalk him, you know.”
“i wasn’t stalking him.” you say, shooing your older brother away. “geez, have you gotten crazier since you’ve left for stanford?”
“first of all, i’m not crazy.” he flicks your forehead, deciding to be the annoying older brother he was and rummage through your things. “and i’d like to see you get into stanford yn, i really would. instead of being boy crazy with your psychotic friends.”
you roll your eyes at this, placing your phone down to look at your brother. “my friends are not psychotic. plus, your stupid rule about sunghoon started in freshman year of high school, can’t you let it go?”
“never.” heeseung steps off your bed. “i know him, yn. you don’t, you don’t know what he’s capable of.”
you blow the threat from your brother. if there’s one thing you’ve learned from living with lee heeseung your entire life was that ignoring him was easier than trying to pick a fight with him. he was stubborn as a bull.
heeseung and sunghoon became friends in the fifth grade after your family had moved, and he ignored your presence up until junior year of high school, where he ruffled your hair when you congratulated him on his graduation.
“thanks little lee,” he says, and it’s all park sunghoon has spoke to you, which hurt knowing that you’ve practically tried everything since middle school for him to acknowledge your existence.
“YN!” your mother calls from the kitchen. “oh gosh, i forgot to pack heeseung his lunch! can you drive to the university?”
your cheeks puff out, which makes riki who was currently on your phone screen, laugh.
“yah, listen to your mother lee yn,” riki snickers. “i’ll come with. i need to get out of my house anyway.”
you roll your eyes at his self invitation, hanging up as you quickly run down to grab heeseung’s lunch from your mom and your keys.
yn on top☝️
be ready in 5 nishimura, im omw
nishishi
ok.
yn on top ☝️
dry ass
“get in loser!” you call out. nishimura riki pulls his black shades down, eyebrows furrowed.
“the hell you call me?” he jokes, opening your passenger car door.
he starts to buckle his seatbelt as you drive, taking a sip from your stanley. “so why are you so excited? wait—i know why. you get to see park sunghoon in action!”
“yah!” you slap his shoulder with your free hand, turning the music a bit louder so you couldn’t hear him.
“oh don’t turn up the music because you can’t handle the truth. you just wanna see your brother’s hot best friend.”
“can you blame a girl?” you say, lips out in a pout. “maybe now that i’m 18, they’ll take me seriously.”
“nobody takes you seriously, y/n.”
“nishimura riki, you have 5 minutes to get out my car.”
turns out, nishimura riki did not get outside of your car. for a boy who was on the varsity track and swim team of your high school, he refused to walk the 3 miles that was left to go to the university.
“you almost forgot his lunch idiot,” riki laughs, handing heeseung’s lunch to you. “imagine you approach sunghoon thinking you’re all cool and then he asks why you’re here and you don’t even have your brothers lunch to defend you.”
“do you always wish death upon me?” you give him the stink eye, pulling him by his hands.
“little lee, did not expect to see you here.”
you knew that voice from anywhere, and you were almost afraid to turn around to face the owner of it.
“yah little lee, i’m talking to you.” it was park sunghoon in all his glory, his hair sitting all nice and pretty as he waits for your response.
“oh! uh—where’s heeseung?”
“ouch,” sunghoon places a hand over his chest. “i greet you and the first thing you ask is where’s your brother.”
riki cackles loudly, so loud that you want to slam his mouth shut and pretend you don’t know him.
“hi park sunghoon,” he greets, extending his hand.
although sunghoon finds the tall boy a bit of a cutie by his baby face, the way he was holding onto your hand made him already seem like a threat, so sunghoon’s expression is pursed into a poker face.
“heeseung is down at the corridor,” sunghoon says, turning back to you. “do you want me to give him that?”
you nod shyly, handing the lunch to sunghoon who smiles. “aish, the kid got into stanford and he’s still making his mom make his lunch?”
you could feel riki’s hand loosen from yours, his attention caught on two students who were currently dancing on the other side of campus.
“be right back!” he exclaims, running off to watch them.
“this jerk,” you whisper underneath your breath, smiling when you make eye contact with sunghoon again.
“he’s quite the character, isn’t he?” sunghoon questions. “who is he?”
he says that in such a bitter taste that makes your stomach flip, wondering why he was suddenly upset.
“nishimura riki, he transferred to hybe high from japan just this year. he’s really sweet but very chaotic.”
“ah,” sunghoon clicks his tongue. “is he your boyfriend?”
your words almost get caught in your throat, obviously shocked by sunghoon’s straightforward question. “what?! no!”
“oh,” he smiles. “that’s good little lee.”
“you should just call me y/n,” you groan. “little lee sounds so stupid.”
“it’s not stupid,” sunghoon says, flicking his hand. “it’s cute.”
“really?”
“like you.”
before you could even process it, riki’s already running back to the two of you, excitedly telling you about the amazing dance program stanford has to offer.
“let’s go! i have to go home and submit an application to stanford!”
sunghoon raises an eyebrow at the excited tall boy who was currently grabbing you, sending you a small wave and smirk when your eyes plead for him to rescue you.
“see you soon little lee.”
“YAH! ARE YOU AN IDIOT?”
“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU IT WAS AN ACCIDENT?!”
you were currently scolding the japanese boy for ruining your chances with sunghoon earlier.
“it is not my fault lee yn!” he says, puffing out his chest. “plus, the dancers say there’s a party this weekend at stanford and they’ll sneak us in. we have to go, you can see sunghoon hyung again and i can see them!”
you pursed your mouth into a thin line, riki awaiting anxiously for your answer.
“let’s say i do wanna go, heeseung would never let me go to a college party, especially not with a boy like you!”
riki clasps his hand over his chest and pretends to fall over in pain on your bed. “how could you say that?! i’m a great guy. cmon yn, you can’t let your older brother dictate your entire life, you’re 18 now!”
although riki has said a million of stupid things, he was right about this. you were eighteen, and you didn’t need your older brother ruining your chances of getting a boyfriend.
“okay,” you say, watching as riki’s eyes lit up. “let’s go. who are your dancer friends?”
the weekend had came by quicker than you thought, and you waited until heeseung said his goodbyes to you so you could get dressed and do your makeup.
although you didn’t want to go overboard with the whole thing, you still wanted to impress sunghoon, because after all, there would be a bunch of prettier college girls at the party that were smarter than you in everything.
“wow.” nishimura riki’s mouth drops as he sees your dress and face. “you clean up nice lee yn!”
“thanks ri,” you ruffle his hair, which he swats away in annoyance. “let’s go, heeseung’s already there.”
“great, so are my dancer friends!”
the two of you blended in easily, riki’s height doing both of you a favor as you held hands and made your way through the crowd of dancing and drinking college students.
“little lee?” your face bumps into sunghoon’s chest, and you almost gulp when you look up at his height. “what the hell are you doing here?”
“well that’s my queue to leave!” riki chuckles nervously, throwing you a lazy thumbs up as he runs to the drink cooler.
“never will understand that kid.” sunghoon mutters under his breath. “but seriously y/n, it can be dangerous, why are you here?”
it’s the first time in forever that he’s addressed you by your first name, and you can’t help but feel giddy.
overconfident by the drinks you had pregamed with riki previously, you find yourself leaning closer to park sunghoon. “i came here for you.”
he blinks.
“here..” he states, glancing around the party. “for me?”
the confidence wore off in a second. you were now starting to get embarrassed, cursing yourself for saying such things in front of sunghoon who probably didn’t even like you.
“that’s sweet little lee,” he says, eyes crinkling. “but you could get into a lot of trouble if your brother finds you, you know? he already freaks about you enough, finding you at a party at his college at night will kill him at the spot.”
park sunghoon was right, your brother would absolutely rage if he had found out you snuck out to go to a party. in some ways, he was even more strict than your mom.
“hoonie!” the voice of a girl interrupts the both of you as she makes her way over, placing a sloppy kiss against sunghoon’s cheek. she hasn’t said anything to you and you were already starting to see red.
“oh hi! i didn’t see you there!” she extends her hand, grinning from ear to ear. “i’m hanni, president of the pi beta thi sorority!”
you notice sunghoon’s hands finding themselves around her waist. although he’s probably only doing that to stabilize her, you find yourself too jealous to speak.
“hanni, this is lee y/n, heeseung’s sister.”
“oh!” the girl gasps. “oh my gosh, i’ve heard just so much about you! you’re prettier in real life! what are you doing at a college party?”
now you can’t really keep being mad at her because she seems so genuine when she’s complimenting you.
“oh, my friend riki has dancer friends who invited us.” you say awkwardly, watching as sunghoon whispers something in hanni’s ear.
“well that’s awesome, i hope i’m gonna see you here next year!” hanni then waves her hands, parting away from sunghoon. “i’m gonna go say hi to your brother, toodles!”
you watch as she makes her way towards the outside, most likely to the pool. at least you knew where your brother was so you know how to avoid him.
“hanni is really sweet,” sunghoon says as you turn back to face him. “met her a few months ago.”
“oh really,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek. “is she your girlfriend?”
sunghoon laughs as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. “what? no—of course not. she’s just touchy when she’s drunk. she’s dating one of my frat friends, his name is yang jungwon.”
you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, happy that sunghoon was still single. after all, hanni was a pretty and nice girl, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was able to pull him.
the two of you stand in silence for a bit, sunghoon staring into your eyes with his dazed eyes. you almost want to pull him in, close the gaps between yours and his lips.
“am i stupid?” he suddenly asks, eyes still in contact with yours.
“no, why would you say that sunghoon?”
“i still like you after all this time. even when i got to college and promised myself i’d find a girlfriend and move on, you’re always still at the back of my mind.”
his confession makes you wonder if you were hallucinating, not believing that the park sunghoon who you’ve been inlove with since childhood was currently telling you he liked you.
“i..” he doesn’t let you say anything else, choosing to lean in and kiss you instead.
it’s all great and feels magical until you’re pulled back harshly, the sound of your brother’s yelling filling your ears.
“LEE Y/N? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING AT A COLLEGE PARTY, AT NIGHT? KISSING SUNGHOON OF ALL PEOPLE? WE’RE GOING HOME!”
you want to cry in embarrassment when you realize everyone has turned their eyes to look at you, and sunghoon throws you a look of guilt and pity when he sees heeseung dragging you away.
“stop it, you’re embarrassing me.” you cry as you’re outside the party.
“me, embarrassing you?” heeseung scoffs, looking up into the sky before looking down at you. “do you know how much you’ve disappointed me tonight? first, you dress up in barely any clothes, then you sneak into a party with some japanese male exchange student, and then you KISSED MY BEST FRIEND?” you close your eyes at heeseung’s yelling, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole.
“what will i do with you?” he grumbles as he drives the two of you home. “you’re lucky mom is out of town for two days. if i drove you home like this, she would kill you. and is that fucking alcohol i smell on you lee y/n?”
you gulp, knowing full well that you probably reeked of alcohol and sunghoon’s cologne at that moment.
“i told you he was a bad influence.” heeseung says as a red light comes up, turning to you as his hands were still on the steering wheel. “he’s going to break your heart and crush it beneath his feet, and who are you gonna come crying to? me. i’ve seen it so many times before y/n, my own girl friends at college have got with sunghoon and all he’s done is crush their souls and spirits. you think you’re any different because he said a few sweet things and kissed you?”
“stop it.” you say, wiping your tears away. “you’re being mean, heeseung.”
“men like him don’t change, y/n. sure, he’s my best friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend. he’ll drop you the second he feels like you’re inconvenient.”
you let out your first sob at night as your brother pulls into your driveway. although he’s still fuming mad at you for going against all his rules, he pulls you into his chest, letting you cry it out as he rubs your back comfortingly.
“are you okay?” is the first thing nishimura riki says when he sees you at school, frowning at your bloodshot eyes. “i saw you get dragged away by heeseung hyung yesterday night. it was really loud.”
“gee, thanks.” you scowl at him, making him raise his hands in surrender.
“if it makes you feel better, sunghoon wanted to speak to you.”
your head suddenly peeks up at this, and riki almost laughs by how easily he could change your mood.
“really? even after last night?”
“mhm.” riki stabs a fork into his mashed potatoes. “but he didn’t look so happy, so if you end up crying after, i have ice cream at my house.”
you let out a laugh at the boy’s words, silently thanking the world for giving you such an unserious best friend.
and just like riki had said earlier, park sunghoon was waiting in front of your house by the time you got home.
“hey.” he says, hands in pocket.
“hey.”
“about last night,” he seems to be looking everywhere but you. “i’m really sorry about your brother.”
“it’s fine.” you say, shrugging. “he was just being overprotective as usual.”
“yeah.” sunghoon steps closer cautiously. “i meant what i said, you know. about me liking you.”
“sunghoon, i like you too.”
he nods slowly, expression still glum. “that’s the problem though. we cant be together, y/n, you know that, right?”
“why?” you breathe out. “because you want to keep playing girls at your college?”
his eyebrows furrow deeply. “what? no? i’m just—i can’t be with you!” he steps backwards. “i’ll ruin your life, you said it yourself, i play girls at stanford. what’s to say i wont do the same to you?”
“i have known you since you were 10 sunghoon!” you say, throwing up your hands exasperated. “i know you can change for the better. i won’t let you go away this easily, not when i’ve spent my entire life loving you.”
“really?” sunghoon whispers, eyes teary. “you’ve spent your entire life loving me?”
“i have.” you walk up to sunghoon, cupping his face into your hands. “and i’ll love you for my next life if i have to.”
he laughs quietly, head tilting as he admired your face.
“little lee,” he says softly. “you really are a gem, aren’t you?”
park sunghoon being park sunghoon doesn’t let you reply to his words, instead shutting you up with a long kiss on the lips.
“wow.” you say as you pull away, making the older boy giggle. “lee heeseung is so gonna kill the both of us after the life lecture he gave me last night.”
“can’t kill me if i move away to antarctica.” sunghoon smirks, watching as your expression changes in a millisecond.
“YAH PARK SUNGHOON! YOU ARE NOT MOVING ANTARCTICA AFTER JUST CONFESSING TO ME!”
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