#lee haechan fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neowinestainedress · 1 year

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HITS DIFFERENT | L.DH

TITLE: hits different

PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader | mc’s best friend johnny, haechan’s roommate mark (+ kinda emotional support boy when mc acts like a loser)

GENRE: non-idol au, strangers to friends with benefits to lovers, getting together, smut, angst, fluff | requested | bonus part

SUMMARY: nobody ever got under your skin, not until Haechan came in your life and changed everything.

WARNINGS: smut, protected and unprotected sex (condom first and then mc is on the pill), multiple sex scenes, oral sex, fingering, car sex, riding, fingers sucking, face sitting, rimming, anal, mirror sex, a bit of exhibitionism (as a fantasy), praise, teasing (as in degradation but it’s not hard stuff), handjob, morning sex, kitchen sex, toys (vibrator), overstimulation, (no bdsm but) switchy dynamics, sa doesn’t happen but there are a few references to pushy behaviours, mentions of a past car accident and death of a barely mentioned character | I hope I didn’t forget anything but if I did, let me know! | kinda implied that both haechan and the reader are bi because in this house we only support mxf bi4bi couples (joking… unless) do whatever you want with this information.

WC: 44.804k

TAGLIST: @adorejaehyn @matchahyuck @sundhaelatte @jjhmk @ourbeautifulaffair @what-the-jams @oleoleniall @kundann @bbagu @ismileeprnc-responder @produmads @zkdlllin @yesohhsehun @aliceinwhateverland @strangevante @cas104 @hyuckdreams

A/N: finally writing hyuck as a loser male wife (kinda) my life is complete!!! It’s been months and I’m back with a request, I know it took long to write it but I hope whoever requested will like this. I’m still not sure about the present tense but idk I’m trying out new things. I would really appreciate if you could support my work in any way, feedback makes me happy and motivates me to keep writing. If you can, reblog so it can reach more people or come and chat in the ask box to let me know your opinion! Love you, enjoy!

It was Johnny’s fault. It’s always his fault when things don’t go as planned.

It’s his fault if right now you are jumping around Haechan’s bedroom trying to look for your clothes while the clock is running fast, and you are running late.

It was Johnny’s fault for setting you up with Haechan out of all his friends.

“Can you please help instead of just staring while I slowly transcend into madness?”

Haechan rolls his eyes, still laying in bed, crumpled-up sheets all over his body. “Damn, all of this for a pair of panties?”

“For all my clothes. What the hell did we do last night?” You groan, throwing your head back while another exhausted sigh slips from your lips.

“Don’t know,” he shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face while a small smirk curls his lips, “fucked you so hard you forgot?”

“Shut up!”

Haechan sighs another time, eyes rolling in the back of his skull before he stands up and actually starts helping you find your things. You hear him giggle at your muttered curses under your breath but at least he’s helping, studying the room to put your outfit back together.

But when you finally are done, he doesn’t shut up, he’s not half asleep like he usually is when you sneak out of his place on your tiptoes like a thief.

“You know, I don’t even get it,” he says, crossing his arms, eyes fixated on you even if you can only see him with your peripherical view, too occupied putting your panties back on.

“What?”

“Why you’re always in a rush. I think this is the first time I wake up with you. I don’t bite, you know,” you can hear the sarcasm in his voice and this early in the morning, with those implications, you find it slightly irritating.

You scoff, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“It happened once,” he exhales loudly, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “they looked extra soft.” That’s always his justification when you bring up the one time he bit you during sex, his eyes falling on your chest before you swiftly cover it with your arm.

“Okay, enough. You are a sleepy head and I have things to do, that’s why.”

Yeah, that’s why. It’s got nothing to do with the fact you created a list of rules to follow when you two started this and you would’ve rather got hit by lighting than broken one of those. He doesn’t know it, though. So, your different personalities and lifestyles make up a good excuse.

“Whatever,” he replies, believing in you, slightly disappointed over the fact you implied he’s lazy and sleeps too much. “We could eat break—”

“No!” You scream. “Fuck,” you shout again when in the rush of reacting to his absurd proposal you almost zip your panties — or better the skin of your mound — in the zip of your jeans. “I just told you I’m late.”

Haechan doesn’t get you. He thinks he never will. And you can see it in his eyes and the way he’s looking at you. It makes no sense for you to sweat while you’re dressing up again. He also thinks he knows so little of you and has no faint idea of what you could be late for. But he doesn’t ask. He might not have rules written, but somehow that feels like crossing some of those lines that are in between you like invisible strings.

“My purse, my purse, where the hell is my purse?”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes at your panicked eyes that are looking around the room, before he responds nonchalantly, “Couch, probably. You always throw it there.”

You quirk a brow. Always? Are you picking up habits? You scroll that out of your mind and run a hand through your hair — the flat press that now looks like a mess — before walking past him. It’s so irritating to have him there while you have to escape.

“Why are you following me?” You ask exhausted, turning around to meet him standing right behind you; you’re face to face, and considering he spent half of the night inside you, you shouldn’t find it so weird to have him so close, but it is, so you take a step back.

“’Cause this is my house?”

You huff, “yeah, of course.” Your purse is on the couch where you always throw it, and you’re quick to grab it before heading to the door.

“Are you sure you don’t —”

“No, gotta go. Bye. See ya,” you stop him, waving a last goodbye with a barely visible movement of the hand.

The door closes behind you and you finally start breathing normally again.

This is all Johnny’s fault.

It was Johnny’s fault.

If only he didn’t drag you out that night with the lame excuse that you needed to unwind and meet new people.

It wasn’t totally wrong. Let’s say you aren’t the best at making decisions, especially romantically, and you were still caught up with your ex... or whatever he was. You two weren’t together anymore, technically. Practically? Well…

But you didn’t want to start a new thing, your ex was traumatic, no matter how good the sex was (it wasn’t even that good, currently he’s the only one you can get sex from without having to hold boring conversations with a drink in hand and spend the ride back to their place hoping you didn’t end up in the arms of a killer) he was an asshole.

“Can you please don’t run, I can’t keep up with you,” you scream, trying to reach your best friend, Johnny, hurrying in your steps, praying you won’t break your ankles.

“You still insist to wear those heels when you can’t walk in them,” he jokes, laughing at you, watching you huff and bend over to catch your breath.

“It’s not them, it’s you for being so tall, why do you take such big steps?”

Johnny only rolls his eyes before pointing at the bar door with his head, “Should we head in? Need me to carry you or your small legs can drag you inside?”

You frown, glaring at him, “I hate you.”

Johnny smiles, handing out his arm so you can intertwine it with yours and then you step in.

The inside of the bar is cosy, the brown of the wood and the shelves make it warmer, and the music playing in the background is a nice company sound that won’t overshadow the talks. You don’t have time to look around much more, Johnny’s hand swiftly wraps around your wrist, and then he starts dragging you somewhere, and you can only activate your brain again to focus on him if you don’t want to fall in the middle of the place like a bag of potato.

“Dude, you finally made it, you’re late.” A boy you don’t know exclaims from the table and your eyes follow the line of five heads sitting next to him.

“Sorry, it was her fault,” Johnny says. Lies, cause you were on time, he picked you up late, making you wait ten minutes under your complex’s porch.

You are about to complain but suddenly all the eyes are on you, and you are too conscious about it to do anything else other than stare back at them with an awkward shy smile and a small wave of your hand.

“He picked me up late,” you still manage to babble out cause there’s no way that will be the first impression of you. You surely have some flaws — many flaws, Johnny would say — but being late it’s not one of them.

“Yeah, we know,” another one replies, glaring at your friend.

“Haechan,” Johnny replies with a scowl to him, and you try to note to yourself that’s his name. “Move, we need to sit, too.”

You wouldn’t have minded sitting at the far end of the bench, not even if you were at risk of falling down every two seconds. It would’ve been better than being squeezed between Johnny and Haechan. But even if the position is not the best, once again because Johnny takes too much space, after more than an hour you got along with all of his friends, you learned that most of them were dating, or busy with something, so you couldn’t quite get why Johnny brought you there. The fear that it was his way to confess to you and screw up twenty years of friendship got your skin crawling for a second, but when you were left alone with the black-haired man to your right, it all made sense.

“So, how do you know Johnny?” You ask, turning around to look at him while a small smile curls your lips.

Haechan smiles, or smirks, it’s almost a chuckle, you can’t quite describe it. “At the gym.”

“At the gym?”

He rolls his eyes, swiftly licking his lips, and lifting his hands up in defence, “I tried, okay? It’s just not for me.”

“Oh, no, sorry if it came off rudely,” you apologise. “You didn’t seem interested when they talked about it before so…”

“Cause I’m not,” he laughs wholeheartedly, and his face softens, making you take a breath of relief, well, good, you didn’t fuck it up for once. “We got close soon and then we started knowing each other out of that hell.”

You laugh at the way he talks about the gym, not that you disagreed, Johnny tried more than once to drag you there but you’re loyal to your Saturday and Sunday morning runs outside or on your treadmill.

His eyes fall on yours again, and he briefly studies your features before speaking again, “What about you?”

“Oh, he was actually my brother’s best friend, then they fought, and we became inseparable. My brother is still mad but that’s not my fault.”

Haechan laughs even though a frown hardens his features for a second, something about your tone seemed off for a split moment, but he shrugs it off and tries to joke about it, “Usually that ends with dating.”

Your eyes widen and your head moves from side to side. “Oh, hell no.”

“Johnny’s a dream for a lot of people.”

“Yeah, we’re fine as friends,” you confirm again, the mere idea of seeing Johnny as something else making your stomach convulse. You are sure he’s a perfect boyfriend, husband even, to somebody else.

“Oh, already taken?”

“No, we’re friends, he’s my soulmate in another way. And I don’t do love.”

Haechan stares at you, his eyes moving on your face, the small nervous twitching of the corner of your lips, and the frenetic playing of your fingers with the crumbs on the table. “No?”

“It’s just not for me. Not in a…” you stop, trying to find the words. You don’t have a reason, you just never fell deeply for someone. You surely care for people, and you love your friends, but your relationships never left a deep mark on you. You’re fine with yourself. “I’m good on my own.”

“Bad experiences?” He tries to guess, thinking he’s going to hit the target.

You shake your head, sipping on the glass of alcohol and emptying it. “No, I’ve always been like this. I think nobody made a mess of me to leave me hooked on them.”

He chuckles, and something crosses his face but you don’t catch it, it looks like the smirk of before with a glint in his eyes, but it’s too quick, and you don’t know him at all to read his micro-expressions that well.

“You?” You ask, feeling a push of curiosity that makes you want to learn more about him. His lips move, but you have no time to carry on the conversation since the others arrived.

Back then you didn’t know where that night would’ve led you. You had no idea that the person that would’ve made a mess of you was right there by your side. But of one thing you can be sure, it was Johnny’s fault.

You’re sure that night nothing clicked between you and Haechan; whatever Johnny had in mind, didn’t happen. You two didn’t even exchange numbers, you can’t even remember if you said a proper goodbye to him when you stumbled out of that restaurant hanging from your best friend’s arm.

Whatever led you here started a few weeks after, probably even a month later, when Haechan had already slipped out of your mind, long forgotten, categorized with those people that if you saw somewhere you were sure you already knew, but couldn’t remember when, why, and how.

But with him, that didn’t happen. When your eyes met again you felt something. He looked different, probably it was the black hair framing his face perfectly, some make-up on his face too, or the leather jacket he was wearing and the chains around his neck. You remembered him, clear as the sky. But he was even hotter, attracting you without saying a word, not that you would’ve heard. You were at a club, and he was leaning against the bar on the other side of you. But his eyes were speaking louder than words, and your feet followed an invisible path that got you right there, on the stool next to him.

“Look who’s alive,” Haechan jokes, looking at you up and down, eyes lingering for a bit longer on your exposed thighs, the pink skirt you’re wearing giving him a good view of your skin.

You chuckle, “why would I be dead?”

He shrugs, before calling the bartender and ordering you a drink. “Don’t know, you disappeared,” he whispers, looking at you.

“I didn’t know we wanted to keep contact,” you say, meeting his gaze and drifting away immediately, it’s a subtle movement, enough to make it seem like the stocked bottles of different types of liquor are more interesting than him. You never react like that, there’s something different in the air tonight and you’re not sure you want to get drunk on that feeling.

“You’re right,” he whispers, and your legs brush for an instant as he sits better on the stool. “I find you interesting, so I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Really? After a five-minute talk, I already have that effect on you?” You tease, staring into his brown eyes while you sip on the drink that arrived.

“You talked all night, to be honest. You seem fun to be with,” he defends himself, but you see in the way he acts that he’s confident, your teasing didn’t make him uncomfortable or anything, and you don’t know where your bickering-flirting method is going to take you. “You’re friends with Jonny, after all.”

You shake your head, placing the glass down, and then fix your skirt. “So following your logic you should be charming and attractive too?”

He lifts a hand to stop you, “Never called you charming or attractive, do you think that of me, honey? Want me to think you are?”

You’re stunned and a bit taken aback because you weren’t expecting that answer, and you don’t even expect your body to light on fire. It’s not really about the words, it’s the way he gets you, like nobody ever did before, like you want him to get you, to keep up with you. And it’s also in the way his body talks, it’s addictive, it is charming, the small fidgeting of the fingers, the bounce of his legs while his legs are a bit spread open and his thighs are perfectly wrapped by those jeans that make you want to do unholy things, and his eyes, that taunting, witty light and the grin on his face.

You shake your head when you realize that you still didn’t come up with an answer, too lost in his details to think about a comeback, and you’d like to die when his melodious laugh resonates from his chest.

“Should we order another one to ease the tension?” He doesn’t give you time to fall down into the deep end of your regrets and embarrassment, he’s smiling at you tenderly, and you smile back.

There’s something different in the air, and you’re sure about it, just like you feel more and more like you shouldn’t get drunk on that feeling.

But you don’t have a choice when the night drags longer and you’re no longer sitting at the bar but you’re dancing in a corner of the club with his hands all over you. You don’t know how you got there, words turned into teasing, teasing turned into something bigger you didn’t know how to deal with (he is good with words), and to bear with them you thought dancing would’ve drawn his quirky remarks out, but Haechan was also good with his body, and once he had you wrapped around him, you didn’t know how to stop.

You had lost sight of Johnny, but you couldn’t care about him. Technically you had to go home with him, but you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“Fuck, girl,” he whispers, “you’re good at this.”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh rolls out from your chest. “Don’t call me girl, it sounds so condescending and you sound like a creep.”

“Sorry, prefer other pet names, or is your name fine?”

“My name is fine.” Your name should’ve been a neutral thing to keep him away from your heart, at least — even if he actually isn’t, he is already deep inside your panties by now. But unfortunately, even the way your name rolls out of his lips makes your heart lose a beat. But you blame it on the night, on the alcohol, and on the fact he’s teasing you, whispering it right next to your ear as if he’s casting a spell on you.

You need to breathe some fresh air because Haechan is becoming too much. He was already all over you and you aren’t used to this.

When you open the door of the bar and lean against the wall, the cold of the night envelops you before his warmth washes over you again.

He doesn’t talk, though. Even if your eyes are closed you can feel he is staring at your face, fearfully at your lips while they puff out white clouds of air.

“Should we take this home?” Those words seem so loud in the quiet of the night, just a few cars passing by and some people stumbling out of the club.

You don’t reply, your head turns around to stare at him; he’s serious, partially drunk, but serious. And you are in desperate need of a good fuck. Well, you hope it will be a good one, or probably no, maybe you wish it will be terrible so you can rant about it with Johnny and he will make sure you and Haechan never cross paths again. But right now, you’re not thinking with your brain, and you want him, hoping it will be good, and who knows, maybe you can find your perfect distraction.

“Your place?” You ask straightforwardly, meeting his eyes.

“Oh, Mark’s at home,” he says, “my roommate.”

You sigh, you can’t take him home either. “Well,” you say, rubbing your neck and looking away, “maybe next time, then.”

“Wait,” he stops you by a hand, “have you ever done it in a car?”

No, you haven’t, and soon you also find out why you’ve never done it.

“Will you please stop cursing?” Haechan rasps, pulling your panties down, trying to block your leg from kicking him in the face.

“I don’t think this is the best place we could — fuck,” the words die in your mouth when, after rolling his eyes and gutturally groaning to shut up, his lips close around your pussy. It’s a harsh suck on your clit that gets you silent, head rolling back on the backseat. You think that he might be uncomfortable kneeling between your legs, halfway down and halfway up in the space between the front and back seats, but you honestly don’t care, that’s his problem for choosing this out of all the places, not that you had a better alternative, at least the car is clean, unlike the club bathroom.

It’s not the first impression people would go crazy to have about themselves, but fuck, Haechan’s good at this. It’s like he has a mission, and probably that’s to make you come in the shortest possible time.

“Why are you so loud?” You ask. It’s not a complaint, you like hearing him moan against your skin, and as embarrassing as they should be, you enjoy the slurp sounds he’s making while his mouth keeps working wonders on you. But your pleasure-haltered voice doesn’t come out how it sounds in your brain and Haechan growls in annoyance.

“Why are you still talking?” He scolds, pulling away from you, and the sight of his face covered in your wetness makes your stomach twist and your hips buck searching for more. You need him back right where he was, immediately. “Good, these are the only reactions I want from you,” he comments mockingly with a snotty grin on his face before he leans down and resumes where he stopped.

This time no more words but curses and moans come out of your mouth. Your head falls back slack, and your fingers graze the backseats of his car, trying to hold onto something as the knot in your stomach tightens more with every lick on your sensitive core.

“Taste so good,” he hums against you, his hands push your legs up for what he can, and his fingers dip into your soft skin, gripping strongly to keep you in place. The cold of the rings adorning his digits makes you shiver and you’d do anything to have them inside you, but it feels so good that you can’t even beg for that, too focused on what he’s already doing with his lips and tongue.

“Haechan,” you whisper when he quickens his movements and parts your lips more, starting to also tease your entrance with his tongue and making you feel more exposed. You should be more bothered about the cars — and people — passing next to you in the parking spot, but given by your whimpers and moans, it’s clear you don’t care. Truthfully, it’s like you have completely forgotten where you are, not even the painful reminder of the safety belt’s buckle pressing right against your ribcage seems to remind you that you’re in public and anyone could hear — and for now see too, since the windowpanes aren’t fogged by the heat of your bodies yet.

“Mhh, mhh,” he sings in response, opening his eyes to meet yours, looking at you with so much intensity you feel your knees tremble and your thighs close around his head. “No, no, no, babe, let me do my job.”

You groan; the teasing, almost condescending, tone of his voice fuels a fire in you, and the orgasm chokes you up. You curse when your climax breaks through your body and leaves you gasping for air while Haechan continues pleasuring you through your high. His hands cup your ass, kneading it, while his tongue plays with your extra sensitive pussy for some more before he pulls away and stares at the mess between your legs with a proud, playful smirk curling his reddened and puffy lips.

“So, was it worth it for you, spoiled princess?”

You scoff, brushing your hair back and some sweat off your forehead, while you try to close your legs because suddenly you feel too exposed to him. “You can’t deny the car is a shitty place.”

He laughs and then shakes his head. “So shitty you can’t take some more for me?” He tilts his head, raising his brows while he briefly looks down where his hands are patiently waiting for your good to go and get out of his pants.

“If you’re also so good with your dick I think I can take being cramped up in a sardine can some more,” you joke, struggling to sit up because your legs feel like jelly and you can’t believe he made you feel that good with his tongue only. Your first time together? And it looked like he genuinely loved giving oral? Was all this luck a sign of something tragic imminent?

You scroll your thoughts out of your mind when you feel the sound of the belt unbuckling and his jeans hitting the floor of the car.

“Fucking worst idea ever,” he curses as he realizes that he can’t fuck you with the denim mid-thigh.

“I told you,” you retort, and you’d be entertained to watch him curse and struggle some more, pondering if he should just get rid of his shoes too and be naked while anyone could knock on your window and signal you to the police, but you want him too badly and you can’t wait any longer, so you propose a thing, “Sit here, I’ll ride.”

His eyes light up and you can see the weight being lifted off his chest as he nods and promptly sits in the middle seat. You stare in silence as he pushes the boxers down his legs too before grabbing a condom and rolling it down his length. You could cry because also his dick looks perfect for now, and you don’t go around saying it often, but it’s literally the perfect size, it won’t hurt you and yet it will fill you amazingly, you just know.

“Enchanted?” He tsk with a bragging tone, winking while he runs his fingers through his hair.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head, but your pussy clenching is your honest reaction, he’s too hot and uses it to his advantage a bit too often, he can’t keep getting away with it. So, you go on with your lie, trying to appear unfazed, you shake your head and climb on top of him, luckily you decided to go for the mini skirt and not the long pants tonight, so you don’t have access problems. You move your hand to grab the base and lift your hips, only when you feel his tip prod at your entrance you start sinking.

“Oh, shit,” you moan and your head rolls back when you bottom down completely. You don’t move right away, letting yourself get used to his — in fact — perfect girth and length, feeling his hands wrap around your waist to keep you from falling clumsily.

Haechan lets out a shaky moan too, and his eyes are closed still when you lift your head and focus on his face, but they snap open when you start moving on him.

“Fuck, eager?” He groans, biting his lips to don’t be too loud, not that it would do anything when you’re moving so fast on him, your ass smacking hard against his thighs, the sounds filling the vehicle.

“Wanted to fuck you since I saw you standing at the bar,” you confess nonchalantly, and he thinks you can’t be real, but he has no time to dwell on you and the way you are because you’re taking his breath away. He can’t even lie, he wanted you too since the same moment, if not since the very first night, so having you here feels a bit unreal.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers, eyes moving on your body, watching your boobs bounce with every thrust through the skimpy top, and your thighs, fuck your thighs, he wants to squeeze them and hold them, and so he does, moving his hands there and massaging the flesh, eliciting more moans from your parted lips.

Your hands clench on his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out a groan but it surprises you when you realize it’s a moan of pleasure and not pain. Your lips twitch in a smirk before your tongue runs on them. “Like the pain?”

He glares at you, moving his left hand on your ass, slapping it harshly, smirking in victory when a choked moan falls from your lips and your cunt clenches around him. “You too, it seems,” he winks.

“Fucker,” you slur out, narrowing your brows, and picking up a different rhythm, grinding your hips on him with force to distract him from your right hand creeping on his neck until it reaches his hair and pulls at it with a tug.

“Shit,” he moans, thighs flexing under you at the unexpected wave of pleasure he feels rushing through his bones. “I hate you.”

You don’t reply, you don’t need to, it’s clear he doesn’t, and he’s loving it. So, you give him more, leaning in to leave small bites on his neck and collarbones. You don’t let your teeth sink in his golden sink much, your goal is not to leave ugly blooms of purple and red for everyone to see, you want to feel the shivers on his skin and the hisses hitting your earlobe every time you graze his sensitive skin.

You pull back with a cuss when another smack lands on your other asscheek, and Haechan chuckles darkly at your surprised face.

“What, babe? It’s the art of giving and receiving,” he says, trying to sound cocky but his breaths are short and he’s clearly fighting himself back to let out all the moans you’re eliciting from him.

You groan, and you almost lean in to kiss him, you don’t think it through, your body moves on its own but right when your lips are about to crash you stop, seeing eye to eye. “I hope you’re having fun, then,” you retort, but your voice is shaky — he blames it on the sex — and your heart is almost pumping out of your ribcage, but he doesn’t notice, he doesn’t even notice your trembling hand as you try to fight off the anxiety that being so close to him, to his lips, to his eyes, gives you.

“So much fun,” he snorts, pulling you closer to him by the waist and you have to pull back swiftly, gasping for air. The car feels suffocating, and when you turn around for a split second you can’t see what’s outside, glasses steamed up.

“Worried about people that could see us?” He teases you, bringing your attention back on him with his thumb on your clit, smirking proudly when your eyes widen and your thighs tremble, and you have no idea how you’re — not only supporting your body up — but still fucking him.

“Worried about going home with a corpse in the car,” you mutter when he starts moving his finger on your clit, and presses his hand on the small of your back, and you can almost feel the metal meld in your skin for how hot your body is.

“Want to kill me? After the best fuck of your life?” He pouts, starting to move up into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“You wish,” you spit out, but oh god if he’s right.

“Then I guess you’re not gonna come.” He forces you still down on him, the strong grip on your waist almost painful.

“What?” Your eyes snap open, and your hands have to hold onto his shoulder because your legs can’t hold you up by themselves anymore.

“Changed your mind? It’s good?”

You groan, throwing your head back when he resumes the strokes. “It is good, I just want to slap you for no reason.” Because you are too good, and I might already be addicted and I don’t like how this sounds.

Haechan grins, loving the way you look like a mess in his arms but still talk back and do anything to pretend that it’s not that good. He’s getting off to that, your blissed face, your low, needy moans, your trembling thighs, and your dripping wet pussy making a mess around him. He’s getting off to you, and your stubbornness that makes all your weaknesses so fucking attractive.

“Haechan,” you slur out, letting your head fall on his shoulder while your whole body tenses up. You don’t warn him, the orgasm runs through you before you can even process it, and Haechan doesn’t need words anyway because your cunt clenching around him and your nails digging into his back again trigger his own release too. Your moans blend together and bounce around the car while your hips move in messy thrusts for a while more before coming to a stop, slowly letting the quiet of the night around you slip into the car and remind you two what you had just done.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, forcing your torso up, and gulping while you look around and hope you weren’t too lost in the pleasure and didn’t hear police sirens or something.

“Don’t worry, nobody ever walks around here,” Haechan chuckles, watching the expression on your face change into confusion, leaving the fear behind. “Why do you think I always park here if it’s free?”

“Oh,” you whisper. “So, you bring a lot of people here. Nice to know,” your comment is sarcastic but you can’t deny the small veil of pettiness and jealousy behind it.

“Honestly?” He says, shutting down a moan of disappointment when your body leaves his, and you try to look for your purse to find tissues to clean yourself. “I never brought anybody here, not for sex at least.”

You shouldn’t be relieved, but you are, and you shouldn’t. So you shrug it off and turn around after you pushed the dirty tissue into the empty envelope that used to contain it before. “And for what then?”

“Occasional smoking weed sessions,” he confesses. “When one of my older friends used to drive me and my roommate here, and we escaped those nights with some other friends. I’m not saying nobody ever passes by, but trust me, they don’t care ‘cause they probably will do the same.”

You hum before staring at the door handle as if it will open on its own.

“Want me to drop you home? It got late,” Haechan asks now that he’s finally put together again and looks at least decent, the flush on his face is still there and his hair is a mess, but he’s covered.

You shake your head and bite your thumb before your hand lays on the handle. “No, Johnny will drop me home.”

“Okay, great. Are you alright?”

You laugh and look at him with a grin on your face. “Playing boyfriend after you fucked me next to a wood?”

“Oh, shut up!” He yells, pushing you out, and then following you. “Just wanted to check.”

“Well, I can walk on my knees, so I guess I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Mr perfect dick.”

Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking to the other side, opening the driver’s door and getting halfway in. “Fuck you, Miss I’m not fucking in a car.”

“Goodnight to you, too, Haechannie. It was lovely making a new acquaintance,” you joke, and you can’t hold back the smile when he starts the car and drives away all while holding his middle finger up for you to see after sending you a flying kiss.

When you turn around and hug yourself in your jacket to shield yourself from the cold, you curse at your first step.

You very much can’t walk without looking like you just learnt how to stand on your feet.

“Fuck you, Lee Haechan.”

The rules aren’t exactly written anywhere in your house, it would’ve been weird if someone ever entered and found your ‘10 things to don’t do with your fuckbuddy’, not that many people are allowed in your apartment. That is another of your thousands of unwritten rules, it’s not like you don’t have friends, you are pretty chatty with everyone and get to know people easily, but your house is your safe place, and only a few are allowed in. Haechan isn’t one of that. It isn’t because you aren’t close with each other, by now it had been six months since you started this and well, you got to know each other pretty deeply, but you are terrified that your rules aren’t his.

You know how to move when you go to his place, you have your ways to don’t turn this amazing sex into a catastrophe of broken hearts and shed tears; the rules are simple and clear in your mind.

Rule number 1: never sleep over.

Sleeping in the same bed is romantic. Even when there are no feelings involved, even when no ‘I love yous’ can slur out of someone’s mouth.

Sleeping in the same bed is dangerous.

You can appear a bit cold and distant, but unfortunately, you aren’t. And as much you tell yourself to don’t catch feelings, you may never know what happens when you fall asleep side by side and two arms start keeping you warm. Sure, you could sleep in the same bed and still stay away from each other, but what if… yeah, you don’t even like to think about the possibility of things that aren’t in your plans to happen.

Better safe than sorry.

But that rule doesn’t last long. Haechan is a little too good and you always finish a little too late, so most of the time either your legs don’t allow you to stand on your feet (let alone drive back home), or it is too late and there are no more buses.

So, rule number 1 became what used to be rule number 2: if you by mistake sleep over, leave before he wakes up.

This one is pretty easy to follow. Haechan is more gone than you in the morning and as soon as you hear the first ring of your alarm you are on your feet, ready to go on with your routine. Washing your face, fixing your hair, and finding your clothes so you could be out of there as soon as possible. You would’ve dealt with the other hygienic things back at home. You often thought about carrying a small bag with you with your toothbrush, a towel, and some other things, but that felt too domestic. Even if you had to bring it from home, the idea of brushing your teeth at his place, washing your hair, taking a shower, and walking around his house with only a bathrobe, made shivers run down your spine. Too romantic.

Rule number 3: never invite him over.

It’s not only for sex-related problems, it’s also because you don’t want him to get too deep into you. You had spent a lot of time to make this house your home, and you are sure that if you let him in after the doorstep, he would’ve got to know you, and you don’t want that to happen. You are close, but not too close, and you want to maintain the line clear.

Rule number 4: no kisses.

Strictly no kisses outside of the bed. Your initial rule included also kisses inside of the bedroom — or whatever surface he fucked you against — but after the first kiss he stole from you, well, screw another rule. It is also quite impossible when, for some reason, you two got so primal with each other. It isn’t a fucking session with him if you don’t spend at least five minutes making out while your hands roam each other’s bodies leaving marks behind. Embarrassing, you think every time those flashbacks assault your mind when you are out of the sex haze.

Rule number 5: keep it private.

This also was never spoken but it seemed like Haechan got it too. It isn’t to protect the relationship or some other bullshit, you simply can’t stand people’s opinions about you and your life. Also, what is the point of people knowing you two fucked? That’s too personal and invasive. You don’t want to deal with their comments or their misunderstanding of your and Haechan’s friendship. After all, you two are friends before anything else and you act like friends, but as soon as people know something more is going on, their first brilliant idea is to make up crazy theories of how you two look like such a hot couple and would be perfect together.

And then there are some more, random rules you make up along the way every time you feel he is crossing some lines or you are.

It might seem strange that there’s no rule implying not falling in love, right? Well, it’s not in your brain because you never even thought that could happen. You’re not even sure you ever loved the people you dated, how could you fall for your friend with benefits?

Unfortunately, it never crossed your mind that they are not Haechan.

You’re not sure when it all started. What you’re sure about is that you never planned for anything to start. The fuck in the car had been, unfortunately, really good, but you truly believed you could live without his dick. But maybe there was something else of him you couldn’t live without, and you had no idea about it yet.

“So, uhm, you know Haechan, right?” Johnny mutters in a low voice while you two are walking back home after you convinced him to go out for a run with you instead of going to the gym.

You sip from your cup of coffee and stare at him with a question mark painted all over your face, is he dumb? “Mhh, yeah, you got us in touch?”

“Like him?”

The coffee almost spurts out of your mouth, but you still try to keep your composure and only choke silently on the sip that you’re swallowing. “He seems like a cool guy.”

Johnny snorts, “A cool guy, really?”

“What do you want me to say? I barely know him.” You don’t like the smirk that crosses your friend’s face, you know what kind of grin it is, the smirk of a man that has a plan you know nothing about, and you don’t like not being aware of what is going on. “Johnny?”

“Well, you could get to know him better?”

Your eyebrow rises and you almost stop walking, your brain running too fast trying to keep up with your friend’s bullshit. “What do you mean?”

“He asked if I could give him your number, wanted to be sure it was okay with you.”

“He asked about me?”

Johnny hums, slurping loudly on his straw. Aren’t straws banned? Why does this place still sell them? Just so he can get on your nerves? You are brought out of your straw-hatred thoughts when he speaks again.

“Told me you talked the other night.”

“Talked,” you snort before coughing. “I mean, the music was loud, and we could barely make a conversation, but yes, he seems… fine.”

“He seemed interested.”

“Well, give him my number, I’m sure he won’t text me anyway.”

You got Haechan wrong. So many times actually, because every time you expected he would do something, he would always surprise you by doing the opposite and you weren’t sure it was a good thing.

When you got home after parting your ways with Johnny, the last thing you were expecting was to get out of the shower and see the notification on your phone from an unknown number.

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx hi, it’s haechan. guess you remember me cause johnny gave me your number

thanks for giving him the consent btw

we were so busy last night that we didn’t think about this

You hate to admit it, but you stare at the phone a little too long, why is he so polite about it? Damn, is your bar set so low? Is it really that bad that 90% of the men you met would’ve sent you a dick pic as the first message or a ‘what would you if I was in the shower with you’ text? Probably it is.

You quickly shake your head, biting your thumb, and get up from the bed, swearing because you already left a wet patch on the duvet.

“I can’t answer naked,” you whisper, opening the chat and already thinking about what to reply. “I mean, it could come in handy if he asks for nudes but… what the fuck am I talking about?” You curse before throwing the locked phone in the middle of the bed and rushing to the closet to grab some new clothes.

When you’re all done, in black sweatpants and a white long-sleeve shirt, hair dry, and skincare applied, you slump on the bed and face what has a big chance of becoming your new toy.

you hi! yes i can’t really forget you

“Oh, jesus, are you kidding me? That’s cheesy. He will never get that I mean I can’t forget about his fingers, tongue, and cock, right?” You huff, throwing your head back, trying to think of something else.

you hi! yes i remember

“There, so we don’t sound like a pathetic loser,” you hum happily, pressing send. And with that, you might’ve avoided that, but he’s trying to win the race of the best pathetic losers because he replies in less than a minute.

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx great, feared you forgot about me again

anyway, how are you?

You stare at the phone, not because you want to make him wait — you really couldn’t get those tricks, truly sure that if somebody is interested in you they won’t disappear or appear based on how fast or slow you reply — you’re truly shocked because, damn, a small taste of you and he is already a sore loser, and you’re not ready for a half-assed small talk conversation.

Your fingers start typing anyway.

you good, went on a run with j

you?

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx stayed humble and played with some of my friends

“Oh, he’s a gamer? That’s why he’s good with his fingers,” you let out before you can think of what you’re saying, and also ask yourself since when you started talking to yourself so much. Maybe Johnny is right, being alone is fucking you up.

you did you win?

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx of course, babe

do you know whom you’re talking to?

A loser.

You think but you don’t write it.

A loser.

You think of yourself when reading the message, you can hear his honey-like voice whisper ‘babe’ to your ear and your core starts throbbing as if she’s been left starving for years.

you haha hope you had fun

Dammit. Since when do you suck so much at holding a conversation? Why aren’t you flirting back? Wait, is he flirting?

Another groan leaves your lips as you plunge even southern on the bed and lock the phone again, hoping he lost interest in you after that dry-ass message and you can go back to your toys and your ex — update, the sex ranking fell down after Haechan, he wasn’t even good for that anymore.

But Haechan surprises you, he always does. When your phone dings again you expect to find Johnny congratulating you for being a dumb bitch but instead your jaw falls on the floor.

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx sure did

btw

can i take you out tomorrow? johnny told me you stop working at twelve on friday so it shouldn’t be a problem

dinner out? i’ll come to pick you up at 7

“What the fuck?” Your attempt at don’t look like a crazy single 40 years old woman that fell into madness by being only surrounded by her cats didn’t last long. “What the actual fuck?”

Is that a date? He asked you how you’re doing for some sort of niceties before dropping the question just like that? Why is Johnny so nosy going around telling your business — mental note; talk to Johnny about shutting his mouth.

you fine but i can drive there

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx no dw, it’s a surprise, i’ll drive you

you thanks, i promise i won’t make you wait

+ xxx xxx xxx xxx can’t wait to see you 😊

You snort, fucking loser, before going to his contact.

‘pathetic loser’ was added to contacts.

Haechan surprises you even on your first date, or whatever you could call that. As sweet as he seems, you deep down — precisely between your legs — hope it is a dick appointment, but since you aren’t with your car you aren’t so sure about that, he for sure isn’t entering your place that night.

You are punctual, already waiting for him outside of your house, and immediately entering on the passenger side when he stops on the sidewalk.

“Am I late?” Haechan asks when he sees you step in so promptly.

“No. Why wait, though? See that the first time it was Johnny’s fault?”

Haechan chuckles before giving you a brief look, studying your red dress, the heels, and the small bag, and then starts the car again. “It’s always Johnny’s fault.”

Yeah, you totally agree.

“So, where are we going?” You ask, hating the silence that’s filling the car. After the small talks, you stopped conversating, and even if it wasn’t awkward you didn’t want your brain to travel to places.

“I told you, it’s a surprise.”

“I don’t really like surprises,” you confess, turning your gaze to him, leaving the city behind you.

“Damn, you bite back,” he whispers, and you blink in surprise.

“Am I too honest?”

“Don’t know, I don’t know you yet.”

You think for a second that you should end this as soon as possible, he seems too sweet and even if you don’t do it on purpose, you know you can come off as too edgy at times. Not everyone likes being told things to their faces or having set boundaries they couldn’t cross, but you mean no harm, you just want your space protected.

“It wasn’t supposed to come out harshly, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to meet his eyes and when he stops at the traffic lights, he turns to stare at you. “It was kinda a ‘get to know me’ information and I sounded like a bitch.”

Haechan laughs, shaking his head, fingers tapping on the wheel, probably to release the tension in his muscles. “I wasn’t offended, I just wasn’t expecting you to be so upfront. People… lie.”

“I hate liars,” your voice comes out just like before and you curse under your breath.

“Another ‘get to know me’ information?” He questions, his voice playful while a gentle smile curls his lips.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “Add it to the list, it might be helpful if you don’t want to end up on my blacklist.”

The biggest surprise Haechan gifts you is that… he is not an asshole.

You expected he would say something during dinner to make your pussy dry, brain dead and stomach convulsing with the urge of puking, but… he didn’t. Nothing dumb, insensitive, tone-deaf, cringy, or creepy came out of his mouth.

Even when he flirted, he knew how to do it right. He was so fucking good at it, being so subtle he left you speechless and warm, making you dizzy, and, after the tenth eyebrow rise and lick of his lips, even wet.

And he was funny. Quickly going down the memory lane you could recall that the only man that genuinely made you smile so much was Johnny.

And well, you’re not quite sure how to feel about this.

The only thing you feel is the disappointment when he drops you back home and you know you won’t get a good fuck out of that — amazing — night.

“So, did you have a great time?” He asks, rubbing his hands together to warm them while he turns his torso to stare at you, and you see his eyes linger on you a bit more, probably wanting to take in for the last time how beautiful you looked that night, not that he ever stopped reminding you.

“Yeah,” you whisper, almost shily. “It was fun, and the food was so good.” Yeah, the food. Not you. Absolutely not you. Never you.

Haechan smiles, nodding. “Glad you had fun; I’ve never been there, so it was a shot in the dark.”

“Mhh,” you hum, staring at his lips, thinking how badly you want them on you before shaking your head. “It was a good shot in the dark.”

“Yeah, sometimes I don’t make a mess,” he jokes, and you let out a laugh too. Good for you, you think. You always make a mess, no matter how hard you try to avoid it.

“Well, it’s… kinda late,” you start saying, rubbing your arms with your palms, and tapping your heels, hoping he would make a move and drive you to his place, as if he could mentally get you and know that you’re insane and there are only five people that can set foot in your house.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking at you. Probably thinking the same, it’s only logical for him to expect you to be the one to make the first move, your place is right behind you, and you only have to ask him to go inside. But you don’t. And he doesn’t even think about kissing you, of course, he doesn’t, you didn’t even let him kiss you while he was fucking you, he’s sure you would slap him if he only moved closer now.

“‘Kay,” you sigh, undoing the belt and placing your hand on the handle, “I’ll go in. Thanks for the night, the drive, the food, and the laughs.” A tender smile is sitting on your face when you say that to him before making your way out, bending to say goodbye again, just in time to get the thin veil of slight disappointment and sadness in his eyes.

“That’s what matters,” he smiles. “We can do this again. If you want to,” he adds, panicking, almost as if he had asked to marry you just to regret it two seconds later.

“Yeah, we can,” you smile. “It’s pretty chilly out here, so,” you shrug, “goodnight?”

“Can’t wait to see you again, then. Goodnight,” he says before waving at you.

You see he waits for you to get inside before his car starts again to head home and you find yourself grinning like a fool when the door closes behind you.

Yeah, he’s definitely a loser.

You could call that the start of your friendship, but surely not where the benefits started. Actually, the whole sex thing took a toll for a few weeks where you only got to know each other and hung out casually. You can’t lie, you were sad about it, and you thought you screw it all up that night when you didn’t let him in; nothing could’ve gone wrong for one time you let him in, right? He would’ve fucked you into the weekend, making you see heaven, and then you could’ve kicked him out of the house, right? But you didn’t, and now you are here, absorbed in your torments, trying to find a way to get back to where you started, possibly without ruining your friendship, of course.

You know the chemistry between you two is still there, but it’s like he’s holding back. You surely aren’t; flirting shamelessly with him, sometimes even in front of your — now common — friends (no need to worry about Johnny, he knows you can flirt with plants when you’re in a peak of insanity and good mood, nothing of your remarks is ever serious — it is with Haechan, but he doesn’t know — you just have zero skills of keeping your tongue inside your mouth and your thoughts inside your brain).

So, you understand that you need to make a bolder move, the dinners and the meets up around town aren’t working, and your move is Johnny and another night out at the club.

It works. After dancing together almost all night in a corner of the club, you find yourself pressed against a wall while his hands run on your body and his lips — shily — kiss your neck, and you know you got him.

“Your place,” you slur, pushing him away, and grabbing his hand to drag him to get your jackets.

“But Mark’s at —”

“As far as I am concerned, Mark can listen to us all night, I don’t care. We’re not fucking in the car.”

“Your place. What about your pla—” he tries to argue but your glare when you turn around and you’re now face to face stops him.

“Your place, now.”

He’s good at following orders, or maybe you’re just scary when you want to, but whatever the motive, all that matters to you is that after a fifteen minutes drive — the longest of your life — and a few minutes walk from the car to the apartment, you have Haechan buried between your legs, eating you out as if that’s what he was sent on earth to do.

You wish you could care about trying to keep it low and don’t moan loudly for Mark, but when Haechan slips two fingers in you and starts sucking on your clit with more strength, his poor roommate slips out of your mind completely.

“Fuck,” you moan as your head rolls back, rubbing against the pillows of his bed, and your legs part unconsciously.

“You’re so embarrassingly wet,” Haechan notices, standing on his elbow and licking his lips clean with a flick of his tongue. “Bet even Mark can hear how wet you are,” he mocks, quickening the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, causing the lewd sounds of your wetness to be even louder.

“Shut up!” You groan, slamming your hand next to you on the mattress before your fist moves in a ball and traps the sheets between your fingers.

Haechan grins, and a chuckle rolls from his lips while his eyes skim your face, meeting your eyes that are — pathetically — trying to glare at him. “You’re so pretty like this, you know?”

Another annoyed grunt slips out of your mouth, and you move your head to the side to avoid seeing his face.

But Haechan clicks his tongue and pulls out of you, making you whine and move your hand to bring his fingers right where they were. He’s faster than you when he sits up and cups your face with his clean hand as his fingers plunge back into you with no warning, cutting the air in your lungs and causing your eyes to flutter shut.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he orders and you unwillingly open them again, locking them in his. “That’s it, pretty girl.”

The way those two words roll from his lips shouldn’t make your stomach twist, but they do, you prefer blaming it on the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, brushing against your sweet spot and driving you closer to the climax second after second.

“I’m...” you mumble, chest lifting erratically because the eye contact is driving you more insane than his hand in you, “...close.”

The grin that appears on his face is so slappable but you have no strength to lift your hand and do anything, and Haechan can see it in your eyes. That’s how he wants you, speechless.

“Come for me, babe,” he urges you, pressing his thumb on your clit and moving it in circles.

“Fuck,” you rasp out, your hand reaches his wrist, and he shakes his head, tsking.

“No, you’re not pushing me away,” he says, but he doesn’t move your hand away, you are not even trying to push him off, well, you are, but the attempt is laughable and embarrassing.

“Too much, too much,” you cry out, voice coming out muffled by his hand still wrapped around your chin. “Haechan, please.”

“Come, we both know you can take much more, don’t play with me,” he growls, leaning in to trap your lips in a messy, heated kiss. “Be good and come for me, would you?”

You moan and hum against his lips, your hand around his wrist tightens the grip but not to push him away, to hold onto him while his fingers move even faster in and out, your hips buck up and your feet press against the mattress while he keeps you down. You feel like you can’t breathe when the orgasm breaks through and you see stars, shaking under him as you feel the grin on his face as he muffles your whimpers in his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry out, slapping his hand away when he doesn’t stop moving after your high dimmed down. “Haechan, fucking stop.”

He laughs deeply and stands away from you, his fingers slip out of you but soon after they’re inside his mouth as he licks them clean while staring straight into your eyes.

“You will drive me insane,” you mutter low enough only for you to hear and Haechan raises a brow, silently questioning you to repeat, but you won’t tell him that. “Fuck me,” you request instead, sitting and grabbing the hem of your shirt to lift it off your head, throwing it around the room.

“Hey, I wanted to undress you,” he pouts, watching you unclasp the bra that meets the same fate as the shirt soon after.

“Too late, should’ve thought about it before.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t move from his position, too busy staring at your naked form. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your eyes roll back in your skull while a heavy sigh leaves your lips. “Great, can you fuck me, please,” your voice is venomously nice, and gets him on top of you in a second.

“Though it was too much? Are you sure you can take it?”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’ll ask Mark to do it and will make you watch while you’re tied to a chair.”

He whistles with enthusiasm, raising a brow, “That sounds pretty hot, you know? But I don’t think Mark’s the type to enjoy these things. Should we ask somebody else?”

“Is there anything that is actually a threat to you or are you so horny that anything is a possibility?”

“Don’t know,” he whispers with a light tone as he leans in and starts kissing your neck, moving down until his lips wrap around your hard nipple, sucking harshly enough to make you hiss before he keeps talking, “isn’t life boring if you don’t at least try everything once?”

Your stare could burn him alive. “I swear this is the last time you’re fucking me.”

“Oh, shut up,” he groans, kissing you to silence you. “Anything legal and not dangerous.”

“I don’t care about that,” you almost scream. “Just fuck me, now.”

“Ask nicely,” he coos, caressing your cheek with the back of his index finger and you glare at him.

“Mark.”

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes and before you can say another word he slips into you. Your teeth trap your lower lip to muffle a high moan to be heard in the entire house and your nails dig into his back. “Gave you what you wanted.”

“Not yet,” you whisper through gritted teeth as your body gets used to his size. “Fuck me.”

“As you wish,” he replies, adjusting better between your legs to find the right position, and after a few seconds, he’s thrusting into you. This is ten times more comfortable than the fuck in the car and you can’t believe it’s happening again. “Yeah, definitely like you better like this,” he comments with a cocky smirk, his eyes are still on your face, and his hands are holding tight on your hips.

“Like you better when you fuck me and keep your mouth shut,” you bite back. You don’t know why you two get so heated up during sex — fair, two times is not enough to draw conclusions and come up with statistics, but to you, it’s clear this is the way you two talk to each other when things get spicy — when you talk normally, you’re not like this.

Haechan rolls his eyes and grunts as he pushes with more vigor inside you, swiftly pushing your thighs against your chest with his body, and blocking your wrists over your head. His lips crush messily against yours, trapping them in a rough kiss.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head when he hits the sensitive spot inside you, and your legs immediately wrap around his waist to keep him close to you. You haven’t died yet — obviously — but this feels like the closest thing to heaven — you doubt you’ll go to heaven, to be honest — but anyway this; his hips rolling against you so perfectly, his hand on your hip and the other around your wrist, his lips on your neck and collarbones, and his cock buried deep into you, this is a taste of heaven, the higher you ever felt and probably will ever feel. And it feels humiliating that he’s got you like this after the second time together, but you don’t want to fight the feeling.

And you don’t. You moan, even letting out chants of his name shamelessly, and he has to remind you with an amused grin that you’re not alone. Mark is right next door and as funny as it might be, Haechan is not sure he wants to share you in any kind of way, no, not even the way you whimper and squirm under him.

“Keep quiet, babe,” he hushes you, kissing you again, and you have no strength to push him off. Maybe you can get used to his kisses, after all, it’s just sex, and for some spell, Haechan turns everything he does into sex, so a few heated kisses while he pounds into you until the bed squeaks won’t make you fall head over heels for him.

You nod, eyelids fluttering as you try to focus on him. His brown hair is falling on his forehead, and there’s a cute, sexy, frown in the middle of his forehead, while his eyes are staring into yours, and you feel the knot in your stomach tug strongly, making your breath cut short. He is so intense, it’s like he can reach so deep into you and discover parts of you that are still untouched.

“Haechan, fuck,” your voice gets higher when he pulls your hips closer to him and changes angle to fuck into you better, “I won’t last.”

He snorts, “Good.”

“No, no good, I…” I want you. I want you all night. I want you all over me until your smell consumes mine. You want to scream but it’s too pathetic. You never went this far for some sex. But nobody ever felt this good either.

“I can fuck you all night,” he chuckles while his thumb finds your clit and starts torturing you even more. “Don’t believe me?”

You groan. You do. You just know. He’s been sent by the gods at this point and you’re sure you won’t find flaws in him anytime soon, but you can’t. You can’t stay the night. You can’t let him get so deep into your skin so soon.

“Come,” he urges you, “don’t hold back.”

Your jaw tenses before going slack when he flicks your clit just right, triggering your orgasm. It’s intense, running into you from head to toe with so much force that you have to slap your hand on your mouth to avoid waking Mark up. You think Haechan’s close too, you can hear how his moans got lighter and whinier, but once again, he surprises you.

You don’t have time to complain when Haechan pulls away, leaving you empty. He turns you around, lightly slapping your asscheek to order you to get on your knees while your shoulders stay flat on the mattress, you wouldn’t have the strength to stand on your arm even if you wanted to.

“Want one more?” He asks against your ear, teasing his tip against your soaked entrance and brushing it against your throbbing clit in quick motions.

You hum, nodding against the pillow, “Please, please, fuck me again.”

You almost feel the smirk against your face before he fills you once more, stretching your sensitive pussy, making more of your cum drip out of you.

Your eyes fall shout, a raspy, low moan slips out of your lips, this position is making you feel him even more as the first orgasm has enhanced your senses. You feel like a puddle under him.

“You feel so good, baby,” he groans, throwing his head back as he picks up the rhythm of before, holding onto your hips so tightly his nails sink into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “So warm and wet for me.”

You hide your head between the pillows, biting back the moans, wondering why Mark didn’t push down the door already because there’s no way he’s not hearing all of this. But for some reason, the idea of him listening turns you on even more.

And it’s like Haechan gets it. He leans back against you, brushing your hair away so his lips can be right against your earlobe. “What are you thinking, babe?”

“Ma-mark,” you slur through ragged breaths, “not him, not like,” the words die in your throat, afraid he might misunderstand, “what if he knows?”

Haechan’s laugh hits you straight to the core, it’s deep and mocking, and you clench harder around him. “Oh, honey,” he whispers, and his voice feels like honey, thick and velvety, “I think he knows.”

You shake your head, trying to convince yourself he might be a heavy sleeper, but your body is following another direction, feeling excited just at the idea, so you push your ass up.

“You can’t keep quiet, you’re so fucking loud it’s like you want to get caught,” he taunts, smacking the side of your thighs, smirking when your muscles tense in response. “Want him to know I’m making you feel this good?”

You deny with a movement of your head, but words fail to come out because you feel on the edge again and you don’t know how much longer you can last.

Haechan clicks his tongue and then presses his chest against your back. “Let’s see if this can keep you quiet.” The last thing you expect are his fingers pushed into your mouth, but after the first surprise, you don’t even complain. Your mouth wraps around his three digits and you start to suck on them eagerly, receiving a moan of approval from him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” He knows he won’t last when your eyes flutter at the compliment and you start sucking on them even harder, he can only think about you taking his cock instead.

“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles, as the images in his fantasy and the one in front of his eyes start having the best on him, hips starting to lose control, “I’m close.”

You start fucking back into him, and that’s the last thing he needs to come. His moans are higher, and when you turn your head to the side you see his trying to hold them in, biting his lips and gripping your hips tighter with the hand that is not in your mouth.

The sight of him losing his mind is enough to make you lose yours. You’re in ecstasy as your orgasm pervades your body.

“Shit,” Haechan growls one last time, his fingers slip out of your mouth and he pulls out of you before he’d like to, squirting some of his cum on your ass and thighs. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”

You barely realize what he’s talking about, but honestly, you don’t care. For what you’re concerned, after the fuck you had, he could’ve come all over you and you wouldn’t have minded.

“It’s fine,” you breathe out. Your eyes fall shut as you focus on your erratic breath, feeling him slump next to you without any other words.

“Are you okay? Was it too much?” He asks, and at first, you think he’s bragging but when your eyes meet, you realize he’s being genuine. So you nod and beam at him as the only reply you can give him at the moment.

You lie in silence for a bit, your bodies are not touching and you can only feel his heavy breath calm down with yours as you both wait for your body to cool down again. You don’t wait to be fully recovered to stand up and slip out of the covers, too afraid that sleep will take over you and block you at his side.

“What are you doing?” He questions, staring at you with an arm under his head.

“Putting my clothes back on,” you reply with a lift of shoulders as if that wasn’t obvious. You try to search for a bin where you can throw the tissues you used to clean yourself but you can’t find any, so you remind yourself to search in the kitchen before leaving.

“You can wear something mine.”

“I would have to hand it back next time we see each other, I can survive in this a bit longer.”

“You’re sleeping with those clothes?” Confusion blooms on his face as he watches your shaky hands struggle with the zip.

“No, I’ll change myself into my nightgown.”

A frown almost connects his brows before he voices out his doubts, “I don’t have it here.”

“I’m leaving,” you say with a hint of annoyance, he thought you were sleeping there, really?

“Leaving? You can stay.”

You don’t answer immediately, grabbing your phone to book a ride home, and then reply while shoving the phone in your bag. “No, thanks.”

“Do I have to drive you home?”

“No, I’ve already called a Uber.”

You see Haechan’s mouth move but nothing comes out and he only stretches his limbs. “I think that might take a while to arrive, though. It’s cold outside.”

“It’s spring,” you say, walking to the mirror on wobbly legs to make sure you look decent, fixing your air and clothes.

“It’s still cold. At least wait in the living room,” he proposes, now sitting on the mattress as he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

“I’ll be fine,” you smile, turning around, and holding your bag on your shoulder. “I survived walking in a wood at night when I was fifteen, I can survive waiting under your building’s porch.”

“You’re always so — so,” he sighs, shaking his head, giving up finding an adjective to describe you.

You chuckle, “Always? And you don’t know me yet.”

“It sounds like a threat,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.

You open the door, and take a step outside, only showing him your face as you wink, “Oh, it is.”

Probably there was some magic in the air — the polluted air of the city made some kind of magic happen — but from then on, Haechan stopped holding back. He wasn’t shy when he texted you ‘house empty, wanna come over?’ leaving no doubts about what was going to happen if you said yes. You found it funny how he treated Mark like his parents, especially after you were sure he heard you fuck that night, but of course, you said yes.

pathetic loser dinner at that trashy fast food place with the arcade and then dessert at my place😉

And you said yes.

pathetic loser i’m busy this friday but marks’s out saturday so we have the whole day to ourselves

And you said yes. p.s: he made you come like ten times, so it was worth it.

pathetic loser wanna skip the group hang out and fuck around?

And you said yes.

You kept saying yes until you also started asking, and he obviously didn’t decline. It flowed and usually, you didn’t like to leave things unnamed, but you were terrified that if you asked, ‘what are we?’ he would’ve run away scared or, worse, confessed with his big brown eyes and that fucking glint they had inside.

You didn’t need him anyway to know what you were. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, sex partners, or any other name you want to give it, you were that. Nothing more and nothing less.

It still wasn’t your typical thing. You two never sat down and discussed anything, your dear boundaries were nowhere to be found, or better, they existed, somehow he respected them, but you never said them out loud. Not that it was hard to get them, when you never invited him home, never leaned in for a kiss, and never stayed over, he knew your limits and that he had to respect them.

So, everything worked perfectly fine.

Until your rules started to be broken one by one before you could even notice, or better, before you could care to fix all the changes that were happening in your life because of Haechan.

pathetic loser hey

me and the boys are going on a trip to the coast this weekend

wanna come along?

you who are the boys?

pathetic loser yes, johnny is coming

You roll your eyes at the screen before tapping a reply.

you didn’t ask that : /

but yes, need some time off

you will pick me up, right?

pathetic loser you’re so pretentious

don’t you think i should propose to you to come pick you up like a gentleman?

you fine gentleman, pick me up at my place, see you this friday!

pathetic loser i can’t stand you

It’s Johnny’s fault. It’s his house on the coast, his parents’, to be precise. It’s his fault if right now you have Haechan so close and can’t make a move because whatever is going on between you two is a secret.

You’re still not sure why it wasn’t Johnny the one to invite you there, you wonder if maybe Haechan slipped and confessed to him that something is going on between you, but you’re sure that Johnny would’ve already bragged to you about how he made the ‘perfect match’ or how it was thanks to him you were finally getting laid, surely after screaming at you because ‘we never keep things a secret from each other’.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when a ball hits you and you lift your head to see Mark running to you, mumbling apologies as if he had stabbed you.

“I’m fine, it’s just a ball,” you smile to reassure him and lift a hand to cover your eyes because the sun is annoying you. Unfortunately, the sun is not blinding you enough for your wishes because you can perfectly see Haechan playing volleyball a few meters in front of you. You’re sitting on the sand, a sundress on you, while the others left you to play. You weren’t in the mood, too busy letting your thoughts get the best of you, a mix of lewd images of what you would’ve done to the man you couldn’t drift your eyes from and sadness looming over your head like a cartoon cloud.

“Hey, want something to drink?” You’re still so caught up that you don’t realize Haechan is talking to you. His blouse is big and covers his body, only leaving his arms exposed and a small portion of his chest — he doesn’t like to show much of his body — and you get lost in his sun-kissed skin another time, but when he calls your name, you shake your head and cough, trying to play it cool.

“Yes, what?”

“We’re grabbing something to drink, want some?”

“Oh, yeah, some tea.”

“Got it,” he says as if he’s accepting a commend and waves you goodbye before running to the others and you follow him with your gaze until he gets out of your line of view.

You sigh, fanning yourself because even if luckily today the weather is not too hot, you still can’t stand the heat sticking to your skin. You’ve pondered before about jumping in the sea and freshening up, but if just seeing the others having fun had brought back too many — painful — memories, you’re not so sure you can take having ‘fun’ in person.

“Here’s your tea,” Haechan says after a while with a bottle in hand, once again pulling you out of the tornado of melancholia that was drowning you.

You smile, lifting your head and grabbing the drink from his hand. “Peach? How do you know it’s my favorite?”

“You told me,” he replies, sitting next to you, a bit too close, but you don’t scoot over, you like the way your legs brush against each other and also the fact he decided to sit with you and not with your group of friends near the volleyball net.

“Did I? When?”

Haechan laughs at the surprised expression that creates a cute, small crease on your forehead and says, “the few times we had a serious conversation that didn’t include dirty talking?”

You roll your eyes, open the lid and take a sip of the cold liquid, immediately feeling better. “You make it sound as if we don’t hang out normally.”

“We do,” he replies but it’s like he’s not done, as if there’s something more he wants to tell or confess. He stops for a second, sipping on his bottle while staring at the sea at the horizon before resting his forearm on his knees and sighing, “but you never say anything about yourself.”

You chuckle nervously, fingers fidgeting with the cap of the bottle. “What’s to know about me?”

“Everything. You’re a secret.”

You can hear the bittersweetness in his tone, and if you’d stare for a second more, you would also catch it in his eyes, but you dismiss him and the things he’s silently telling you with his body. You sneer under your breath and shake your shoulders before words roll from your mouth. “Secrets are exciting.”

He nods, pressing his lips in a thin line to hold in a groan of disagreement. “When you know them and you have to keep them away from the rest of the world.”

“You want to keep me away?” You joke tenderly, meeting his brown eyes, even warmer and more welcoming now that the sunlight is reflecting in them.

He laughs, shaking his head. This time he’s the one diverting his gaze, the next words that are about to come out sound too vulnerable in his head and he doesn’t want to imagine how heavy they will sound out loud. “I’m just saying, I would keep some things of you only for me to know.”

You hum, nodding while staring at the sand, showing nonchalance even if there’s a circus in your stomach. Maybe you can give him something without breaking another one of your rules, but you soon realize that he already knows the small things about you that you told him to get to know each other. He knows where you work, he knows you have a brother, and you know he has two and a sister. He knows you once found a grass snake in a park and took it home because you wanted a snake pet and your father almost threw you outside (affectionately, no kids or animals were hurt, you just had to give it back to nature). He knows your birthday and your favorite color. Isn’t that enough?

“There’s nothing to know about me.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re boring, aren’t you?” He mocks with sarcasm and his head falls back in annoyance. “You don’t strike as the bland type of person so try again.”

“I just don’t get what you want to know. Ask me questions and I’ll answer.” And I’ll lie, that’s what you truly think.

But Haechan shakes his head, gulping down another mouthful of water. “Nevermind, you don’t get it.”

No, you don’t get it, or maybe you’re pretending not to get it, that he wants to know you. He wants to learn by watching, by studying you, but you always slip away, you don’t let him close. He doesn’t care about questions, this is not a quiz for him, but maybe that’s the fun of you. He has to work extra hard. And he will.

“It’s pretty here.” Haechan’s voice fills the night air, it’s chilly outside, and you’re sitting on the small sofa under the porch. There’s nobody but the two of you at home, the others decided to go out and visit the small coastal town at night, but you were too tired to drag your feet any longer, and honestly, you thought you were all alone.

You hum, moving to the side to leave him some space next to you. “We used to come here during summer,” you let out, and it’s impossible to control the smile on your face when you remember your childhood with your and Johnny’s family. “I always sat here at night, I liked the quiet of the beach and the lights of the towns of the coast. My brother didn’t get it,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “he was too busy playing with Johnny. Even when they stopped being best friends, it was like something shifted in summer. Something about this place feels… different.”

Haechan smiles, he’s not staring at the view, his eyes are locked on you. He thinks that you are different here. He can’t say you two aren’t close, but it’s clear you never let him too close, and he’d like to know why. He knows exactly where your relationship stands, it’s just sex, and he’s fine like this, really, but he wonders if you only do it to protect your heart from unwanted inconveniences or if you don’t trust him enough to let him in. He often thought about prying it with Johnny, but he knows that as soon as your name will slip out of his lips, Johnny will twist everything, and probably that would drift you even further from him. You never had a conversation but it’s clear you both want to keep this between you.

“It feels like the world stops here,” he says instead to don’t let the conversation die before moving his gaze away, hearing you hum an affirmative response.

It really feels like time has stopped, and there’s undefined electricity running between you, it’s the same as always and it’s different at the same time.

“Johnny didn’t tell me about this,” you breathe out; you know it could end in a catastrophe, but you need answers. “Did he ask you to invite me, or did you do it?”

Haechan doesn’t answer right away, you see him gulp and you fear the worst. There it is, the confession you don’t need, you don’t want it, because he is the best sex you ever had, nobody ever made you feel like that, he completely unplugs your brain and for a few hours, you can leave all your problems at the door, and also because after all, he’s a good friend, and love would screw this all up.

“He told me I could invite some other of our friends,” he replies, “and I asked about you, and he told me I could ask. He was going to invite you, but I did it first,” he explains, playing with a loose string of his shorts that are barely covering his thighs. “Why?”

You shrug, it’s the only thing you can do, a breath of relief would be too obvious. “Nothing, I was just wondering. Usually, he organizes these things with me.”

“Oh,” he whispers, “I think that initially it was supposed to be a boys’ thing only, then Mark brought up Minjeong and here we are.”

You know he doesn’t mean it that way, but that ‘here we are’ makes shivers run down your spine. Because here you are. This is the closest thing to breaking rule number 3 and 4 and so many others. It’s just the two of you, watching the sunset while the sea plays its melody just for you to listen. This is romantic. He’s not fucking you shamelessly under the porch where everyone can see. You are laughing together, passing a bottle of soju, and sharing touches that feel too intimate. You can’t break any more rules.

“I was thinking — oh, shit,” Haechan mumbles before you shut him up by jumping on him and crashing his lips on yours, your fingers locking immediately in his hair and pulling it back harshly. “Wow, fuck, needy tonight?”

You don’t reply, your lips move down to bite his neck while your hips start grinding on him.

“Calm down, damn, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, wrapping his hands on your waist now that the shock is gone, “and don’t mark me, you don’t want the others to find out, right?”

No, you don’t. Or maybe you do, maybe it’s time for something to happen and break you and him apart. Cause you feel you’re going down a slippery slope and you don’t like this. Maybe you should fuck this whole thing up like you always do. But you can’t, deep down, you don’t want to.

“It’s only been a week,” Haechan mumbles through the kiss. “You’re so needy.”

“Can you just shut up?” You argue, pressing your hips down on him, smirking when you feel his dick start to press up against you. “So, you do want me.”

He snorts, “Of course, I do. I wasn’t rejecting, I was just pointing out — fuck,” he whimpers breathlessly when you bite his lips and his nails dig in the exposed skin of your back, your crop top leaving so much bare.

“Want you,” you say as if you have to make it any more obvious.

“It’s a bit too public, don’t you think so?”

You shake your head, moving a hand between your bodies to open the button of your shorts but he stops you again, forcing your hands behind your back, catching you by surprise.

“I’d love to fuck you right here, in front of the sea and the sunset, but if one of our friends comes back before time, we’re fucked with no way out, so… can we take it inside?”

You nod, mumbling a faint positive answer, thinking of getting up and running upstairs, but Haechan has no intention of breaking the contact. He lifts you up after freeing your hands so you can secure them around his neck and then pushes the front door open.

“Let’s give it a turn of keys,” he says, twisting the keys in the lock so you’ll have extra time if by the time they’ll come back you won’t be done. You wait patiently, enjoying the way it feels to be in his arms, and let him carry you on the second floor where the bedroom you share is. Was it a great thing or a curse, you still can’t tell, but for now it seems like a good thing.

When you cross the doorframe, the clothes are on the floor in less than a minute and your bodies are already tangled in the bedsheets, hands running on each other with eager and soft whimpers filling those four walls.

You don’t keep track of how long you spend kissing — or eating each other — but you’re sure a few minutes pass by of you just grinding against each other while your tongues and lips meet in a mess.

“Fuck,” Haechan whispers, his hot breath puffing against your warm, wet, now plumper, lips. “Com’ere.” He lays on the bed, patting the space next to his face and you stare at him with confused eyes. He sighs, “On my face, honey. On my face.”

“Oh.”

He quirks a brow. “You were so eager before, what happened?”

You shake your head, moving closer to him, planting your knees at the sides of his chest. “I was, I mean, I am, I want you.”

“So? On my face.”

“I — I don’t…”

Haechan’s eyes roll back and a heavy annoyed groan comes out of his mouth, “Oh God, don’t tell me your ex never done that?”

“Hyuck, he would rarely eat me out while I was laying, do you think he would make me sit on his face?”

“Asshole.”

“Haechan!”

“He’s an asshole, you know it! But I’m not, so come here and sit on your throne.”

“You didn’t just call your face my throne?” Your tone is a mix of annoyance and incredulity, but you actually found that too hot to handle.

“I very much did. And now, do I have to drag you or will you fucking sit?”

You gulp, nodding swiftly, but your legs are slower at moving next to his face and he doesn’t like your hesitation. You yelp when his hands grab your ass and your thigh and pull you right where he wanted you.

“Was it that hard?” He asks teasingly, almost growling so close to your skin, before winking at your flustered face.

The sight of him under you, and his breath colliding with your pussy, make your knees tremble already. “No — no.”

“Good. But you still didn’t listen,” he says sternly.

“I did, I’m on your face,” you defend.

“Are you sitting?”

“No.”

“What are you waiting for? Do I have to do everything tonight?” His tone is getting lower, and the edge of anger in it causes your pussy to clench around nothing.

“But I will… I will break your neck.”

“And I will die like a man,” he insists, challenging you with a glare.

“No, it’s —”

His mad, animalistic, growl on your pussy when he forcefully slams you on him makes you choke on a moan and throw your head back while your hands automatically grab the headboard to hold onto something. Haechan tends to always be messy when he eats you out, he never does things you don’t like, but he has to make sure you know he’s enjoying it, so he’s always a bit messier and louder than he has to be. But this time he’s taking his everything to let you know how badly he wants you. His fingers are planted on your skin, his nose is pressing right against your clit while his tongue moves to leave kitten licks that quickly turn into open-mouthed kisses.

“Fuck,” you moan, hands clenching tight around the bar, and head falling down to see him. His eyes are closed and he’s having the time of his life as he sucks at your clit and lips with eagerness.

“You’re so hot from here,” he mumbles, stopping only for a second to catch his breath before he resumes his movements. His pink muscle moves down, teasing your entrance, slurping up the juices that are dripping out of you, and when your thighs clench around his head in response, he groans gutturally.

You think you hurt him and try to pull up, but he forces you down with strength.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, glaring at you, and you can only hum in reply, feeling your body melt under his skilled movements.

When Haechan’s lips dare to move down on your sensitive rim, you jolt, but he’s fast at keeping you in place, his hands on your thighs as he presses them down and sends you a daring glare.

“Hae — I don’t think…”

“Yeah, exactly, don’t think,” he snarls, the movements on you getting sloppier and louder, making you start to grind against him unconsciously.

Moans choke you up as he explores new things with you, sending you into a new dimension. You can’t fully comprehend you’re sitting on top of his face while he messily eats out your pussy and your ass. You can’t believe he’s moaning under you, holding you tight, one hand busy touching your ass while the other wonders on your upper chest caressing your waist and your boobs.

You feel high and drunk on him. So much you can barely mutter a warning before you come, shaking on top of him, your movements are frenetic as you reach your peak while cries of his name slur out of your mouth with low moans. A tear almost slips from your eyes when Haechan doesn’t stop right away and keeps stimulating your sensitive spots, it’s too much and you collapse on the other side, trying to catch your breath.

Haechan chuckles, licking up your juices before rubbing his nose against your neck. “Fuck, I’d eat you out for days,” he comments, rubbing his hands on your stomach. “You’re so pretty when you moan and squirm, whether on top of me or under, and you taste so good.”

“You never let me pay you back.”

He giggles, kissing you, “you don’t have to.”

“But maybe I want to,” you pout. You can’t deny that you live for how much Haechan loves giving you oral, but you enjoy sucking him off just as much. You love how he lets you have control, how husky and warm his moans are, and you love when his hands weakly wrap around your hair… well, he only let you do it once but you had the time of your life and that never happened when you went down with your ex so…

“Have you ever tried anal?” He asks out of nowhere, surprising you.

“With someone? No. By myself… maybe…”

He raises a brow while a smirk curls his lips. “Maybe? What kind of answer is that?”

“I did,” you confess, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Uh,” he coos, poking your side playfully, “had fun?”

You lick your lips, shrugging. “Fine, I did. I think I like it, but it might be different with, you know, a real person.”

“Would you try?” He asks timidly, looking at you with puppy eyes. As if he has to beg to make you do something, as if he doesn’t know you would try anything with him.

“Yeah, why not.”

“Good, fuck,” he kisses you after letting out the breath he was holding in. “Wanna fuck your ass,” he whispers against your neck, but you can feel the ear-to-ear smile on his face, “wanna be your first time.”

You’d dwell on how cheesy that sounds a bit more if only it wasn’t for his hands groping your ass and squeezing hard while he ruts against your thigh like a pup in heat.

“You’re pathetic,” you mock playfully, tugging his hair back, eliciting a broken moan from him.

“And you’re hot,” he breathes out, moving on top of you to shush you with a kiss while his right arm falls under the bed to search for something. “Been thinking about this all day. You looked so pretty in that short white dress.”

A small smile paints on your face, but it drops when he keeps rummaging in his bag next to the bag. “Can’t you get up to get, I guess, the lube?”

“No,” he almost growls. “Want you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, come on, need you to fuck me.”

“You’re so impatient,” he groans, “but I got it!” He lifts his hand, showing you the small bottle of lube and you snicker at his proud smile.

“You’re such a loser, you’re lucky you’re with me because anybody else would’ve been out of the door by now.”

“And they would lose the best dick of their life, so, dumb decision,” Haechan says before his lips crash on yours again. “And you’re not that dumb, right?”

You shake your head, already feeling your breathing get shorter when his lube-covered fingers start playing with your rim.

“You looked so, so fucking hot in that short sundress, fuck,” he moans, pulling away to sit between your legs, he pushes a finger inside and you bite back a moan. “Wanted to press you against the handrail and fuck you right there on the restaurant balcony.”

Your head rolls back, thinking of that afternoon. The tension between you could be cut with a knife, and there was something thrilling about the way you couldn’t keep your eyes — and hands — off each other and still had to keep it a secret.

“You should’ve,” you breathe out, choking on your words when he starts fucking you with another finger, curling them inside and stretching you to get your hole ready for him.

“Yeah? You would’ve liked it?”

You nod, staring into his eyes with a teasing glare. “Maybe I should’ve sat on top of you,” you stop to swallow, eyes squeezing when he brushes his thumb on your dripping pussy and starts teasing it, “on your lap and tried to — to keep it cool.”

He smirks, tilting his head before he pulls his fingers out. “I think you’re ready for me. You always are, right?”

“Yeah.”

You are, but when his thick cock pushes into you it still takes your breath away. Your fingers and your little purple toy can’t compare to him, they don’t fill you like this, and they don’t feel so good.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb on your waist in circular motions, “taking me all like a good girl.”

You bite back a groan and throw your head back, breathing deeper and longer before you reach his hand and beg him to move.

Haechan sneakers, “only if you keep telling me your little fantasy.”

“I — I don’t think I can,” you confess; he’s barely moving into you, only making circular motions brushing against your sensitive spot, and you already feel weak.

“I’m sure you can,” he smiles, “I didn’t fuck you dumb, yet.”

Your holes clench at his words and you gather your sanity to keep talking. “Sitting on your lap, trying to — trying not to fuck up and down on your dick,” you force out when he keeps his promise and starts moving in and out, gripping your hips tight to angle you just how he knows you like it best.

“You think you can resist it? Stay on my dick without moving?”

“Ye-yes.”

He laughs, throwing his head back as he starts snapping his hips faster. “You’re so confident, baby. I would love to see it all fall down.”

“But if I did, they would find out.”

“Yeah, and think about it, I’d bend you over the table while everyone watches you get fucked dumb. Would you say no?”

You nod, failing to give him a stronger verbal answer.

“Liar,” he spits out, grabbing your thighs to push them up. “Every time I fuck you with Mark in the other room you moan even louder.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, no?” He tsks, cupping your cheeks. “Honey, you love putting on shows. Or is it just for me?”

“For you,” you confess, voice muffled by the pression he’s applying on your face.

The smirk that curls his lips is smug and cocky. “That little dress was for me?”

You nod and his smile grows bigger before it turns into a pout.

“I didn’t get to take it off.”

“You were supposed to — fuck — to fuck me in it,” you mumble, catching your breath when his hold on you loosens.

“Next time,” he groans, “or maybe tomorrow.”

You don’t reply, only cry out louder when you come unexpectedly, taking you both by surprise.

“I’m — I’m sorry, it — shit — it felt too good, I,” you don’t truly know how to justify yourself because you don’t know why you’re so sensitive tonight.

“Shut up,” Haechan stops you with a kiss, “I know you can’t help it when you’re with me.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you retort, rolling your eyes.

“But you love it,” he smirks. “Come here.” He pulls out of you, slapping your thigh as he orders you to sit up. “Want me to fuck you hard?”

You nod, crawling to him at the end of the bed on your own, cupping his face to pull him in a rough kiss as your fingers slip in his hair, and his hands reach your asscheeks, shamelessly parting them before he spanks you hard.

“Can you take it?” He asks against your lips, rubbing his thumb against your jaw before he brushes it on your open mouth, staring into your eyes.

“Ye-yes,” you say but your voice is shaking. When his hand wraps around your neck to tease a kiss that he never gives you, you frown, and he snorts.

“You’re so cute, you know?” His patronizing tone makes more wetness drool down your thighs but you still find the strength to push his buttons.

“And you’re hard, you didn’t come once, yet. Shouldn’t you fix this?”

He doesn’t reply, he pushes you onto the bed, making you face the only mirror in the room, it’s not extremely close to the bed but you’re sure it will do for whatever he has in mind.

“I think you’re so pretty when I touch you, kiss you, tease you,” he whispers against your ear, “fuck you,” he fucks into you without warning, and you gasp, “it’s a shame you don’t get to see it. To watch your pride slip out of you every time that I’m inside you.”

Your head rolls down when he starts fucking into you faster than before but he shakes his head, clicks his tongue, and pushes you up with a tug on the makeshift ponytail. “You’re not running away from me, babe,” he says. “You might not let me into your true self but I have you turned inside out when you’re under me.”

You blink your eyes, staring at him through the mirror, feeling small because you feel like you can’t keep up with his gaze. Haechan has control, he does have you in the palm of your hand, now, only when he fucks you, and you can’t care to mind.

You want him to fuck you until there’s nothing more in your brain. You want him to know all the small things that make you feel good. Because nobody before him even wanted to know them, to own you like this, and you don’t want him to stop.

“Look at you,” he whispers, biting your earlobe, “is it so terrible to not have everything under control?” You feel a hint of bitterness in his voice, almost as if he’s mad at you for not letting go like this under other circumstances. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“With you,” you cry out, shaking a tear away and gritting your teeth when he hits you deeper and you feel your body on fire again.

“Yes, with me,” he says. “You don’t have to think about anything when you’re with me. I’ve got you.”

You almost scream because you hate how much comfort you feel at his words, they don’t sound sexual, not even now that his rutting into you at a fast speed, fucking your ass with so much force that the bed is squeaking and the slaps of your skin against each other fill the room. Even now, something about him makes you feel in the right safe place and you’re not sure this is how you’re supposed to feel while being railed by your friend with benefits.

You shake your head, forcing your eyes open as you stare at him in the mirror. “Harder,” you whisper, sinking your nails in the crumpled sheets under you.

“Harder?” He mocks. “Are you sure?”

You nod, pushing your ass up, trying to provoke him into giving you more.

“If you say so.” His hand moves hesitantly on your neck, he doesn’t apply pressure, he just keeps you in his hold as he fucks into you with rhythmic, deep, and breath-taking thrusts. A low grunt escapes from his lips when your eyes roll back for a moment and you start to be more vocal, mouth staying parted and chest rising swiftly as you gasp for air.

You are a vision. And he could get lost in that.

“You — fuck — feel like heaven, baby,” he groans, “and look so pretty with no thoughts in your brain.” His voice hits right beside your ear and sends shivers down your spine, the eye contact through the reflecting surface makes you melt, tighten the knot in your stomach and almost come on the spot.

Haechan chuckles, kissing your cheeks in a mockingly delicate motion. “Were you about to come again, honey?”

You shake your head, lying blatantly because you know that if you give it to him, he won’t shut up. But he knows you were.

“Yes, you were,” he taunts with a sharp laugh. “What did I say about holding it back?”

“But I — I can’t, fuck,” you cry out. “Too much, can’t take another one.”

“Yes, you can,” he orders. “Come for me, and then I’ll show you, you’ll come again.”

The last thing you want to do is listen to him but he’s a sneaky piece of shit that knows you too well, and when two fingers rub against your clit and two others pass from your neck to your mouth, forcing you to suck them, your orgasm explode before you can even try to fight it.

“I fucking — ugh — hate you,” you cry out, still shaking from the pleasure, writhing under him, shaking your head when he cleans his fingers on your chin.

“The mess on your face is nothing compared to the mess between your legs. You know, right?”

Yes, you do. You can feel your pussy drip an embarrassing amount of cum, and you know how much your hole is clenching around him. But it’s not your fault.

The sounds that come from his mouth are pure condescending mockery as he smirks down at you. “Can’t answer me anymore?”

You’re about to open your mouth but he shuts you up with an open hand on it. “I don’t want to hear you. I don’t need to hear you to know you’re going dumb on my cock.”

You muffle something but it’s in vain, and his eyes glint when you give up in two seconds.

“You’re right,” he groans, “something is different about this place. You never let me have so much — fuck — so much control over you. You never let me fuck you this good, like you deserve.”

You’d like to complain. Because if he thinks that your past fucks weren’t this good, he’s dead wrong. But when your eyes lock, you get he’s still talking about something else. It’s not about the sex or the many orgasms, it’s about you. You didn’t talk back, you didn’t roll your eyes when he called you ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’, and you’re not running away even if he’s all over you. You get lost in his bites and kisses on your shoulders, on his hands on your skin, and his words filling your brain.

“Wouldn’t fuck you in front of the others,” Haechan grunts. He’s picking a brutal pace and you feel like you could break, but moans are still coming out of your mouth, hoarse and needy. “They don’t deserve to see you like this,” he groans, slipping a hand under you, reaching your clit, and making you yelp. “This is only for me. This is mine to see.”

Your eyes roll back. The possessiveness in his voice shouldn’t make you feel things, but it does, it gets your inside to twist and your heart to race and your cunt to clench around nothing even more. You feel like your chest could explode when he keeps repeating that you’re his and his only and you can tease everybody else as long as you want but no one will ever make you feel like he does. His pace on your clit speeds up, while his head falls in the crook of your neck, and then his hips still, the orgasm hits you at the same time and your bodies freeze as the pleasure buzzes through your bones, his hand falls from your mouth and you gasp for air while he collapses on top of you.

You start breathing in synch, and you enjoy the sensation of his chest on your back, but that doesn’t last long. He’d love to stay there some more, but your friends might come back in minutes now, and he truly doesn’t want anyone else to even get a glimpse of you like this. So he rolls to the side, turning his head to stare at you while he dares to caress your back with his hand. You never let him do it, he had tried, he thought aftercare was essential and that after everything he put you through you deserved more than just a simple ‘are you okay?’ followed by your positive answer before you slipped to run back home or if he was lucky only in the bathroom before you came back to sleep next to him, as far as possible.

But this time you don’t glare at him, and you don’t move away, you move closer, not much, but for you is a lot, and you keep your eyes closed while your left hand searches for his body shily, you don’t touch him, it’s just a brush of your fingers against his stomach, but it makes his heart jump in his throat.

“I think…” he whispers, stopping when your eyes flutter open, terrified he ruined something, but you don’t talk, “I think we should shower, so we can be asleep when they come home.”

You smile, stretching and covering your mouth when you yawn. “If you carry me,” you mumble. “I can’t walk.”

He chuckles and then sits up. “It’s my fault so, yeah, I’ll carry you.”

Nothing changes after that small summer trip. You go back and start being stressed once again and the only relief you have is Haechan. Some days are so stressful that you beg for him to come pick you up at work so you can eat something outside and then head back to his apartment to fuck.

Yeah, to fuck.

That is always the original plan, the only thing you need him for. You feel bad for some time treating him like a living dildo, but isn’t it what you two are for each other? You know there’s respect, and care, not love, never love, but other than being friends, when you meet up alone there’s just sex.

That’s what it’s supposed to be.

But then those things turn into… something else. You think it started one night when you came to his place but couldn’t jump on each other because he got a phone call he couldn’t decline, and you had to sit on the couch. You could’ve been a tease and started masturbating in front of him but that thought didn’t even cross your mind. You sat there, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv, hoping to catch something to keep you entertained, and you did. It was one of your favorite movies and when Haechan ended the call and sat next to you, you both had forgotten why you were there.

Just like right now. It’s a Friday night and you came to his place to spend an evening together. No, you didn’t break any rules, it’s just a simple movie night. After you found out you both have an interest in films you couldn’t stop thinking about it, so it was an excuse to watch and discuss some movies together.

“Hi,” Haechan opens the door, and he looks wrecked. You panic seeing him because it looks like he fought with a bear with bare hands, he’s sweating, and his hair is a mess, and your heart clenches in your chest… is he fucking — “I cooked.”

Oh, he cooked.

That made perfect sense, but it doesn’t make sense that you panicked at the idea of him with another girl, almost feeling sick to your stomach and about to throw up. You mentally slap yourself and smile as big as you can before making your way in. Suddenly regretting that you can’t slam him against the couch and ride him until you both pass out.

“Last time chips hurt your stomach, so I made fries, and some small pizzas,” he exclaims, disappearing in the kitchen before showing up again with his hands full. “I hope you like this.” Haechan almost passes out when he sees the smile on your face, it’s so big and he swears he never saw you smile like that, but the moment of happiness doesn’t last because that smile disappears after your thanks.

It’s another mental slap to yourself and your heart for beating so damn hard. It’s just snacks, anybody would have done that, right? Except you know damn well it’s not true. Your ex never cared about the few things your stomach hated and kept you up at night. Sometimes even Johnny forgot you couldn’t eat chips for God knows whatever reason. And it is annoying to fry and turn on the oven when he could’ve just opened a bag and eaten.

Haechan is a good person. You justify. He is. You know it. He’s kind, good with kids, doesn’t know how to cook but he tries (for you), and when you tell him something makes you uncomfortable, he always tries to fix it as soon as he can, he’s perf—

“We should eat before it gets cold, then,” you almost scream, scaring him because you were dead silent in your thoughts for too long.

And Haechan thinks he will never get you. But it’s fine like this. You are to discover, and he likes it. It’s thrilling, and every small step deeper into you feels like the biggest of the rewards. But he wonders when, and if, he will ever reach your core.

For now, it’s fine like this, as you sit on the couch with the food in front of you and the movie you picked starts playing on the screen.

After those movie nights, you should leave. You never set them too late for that reason, so you can drive back home before midnight. It’s easy to do, you’re just a bit tired but your legs are not shaking post-orgasm, your heart is not jumping out of your ribcage and you’re not leaking cum.

It is easy.

Yet, you stop doing it.

“Why don’t you stay?”

You should leave. Just like you did that one time he woke up with you and asked you to stay for breakfast. You were late. And right now, you can’t be late, but tomorrow you need to be home before nine because you have something important to do. It’s an easy lie to tell, he doesn’t know anything about you anyway.

“I don’t know,” you whisper and Haechan looks taken aback. Of course, he is, that’s not a typical response of you. You would’ve screamed something at him, acting like a dog when someone crosses its personal space, barking left and right (not the nicest comparison he had told you — yes, he did — but you couldn’t get mad cause he was right). “I don’t have a toothbrush or my towels.”

You realize that you broke another rule when Haechan stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. That’s the reason why you can’t stay. And the way those words came out of your mouth shows that you’re almost — he learned he has to be careful with you — sad for it.

“I have a spare one,” he says before you can go back to your true self, “it can be yours.”

That toothbrush eventually becomes yours. It sits there, right next to his, and every time you get up in the morning to escape from his bed, you’re reminded of all the lines you’ve crossed. You didn’t bring it from home, he fucking gave a toothbrush to you, and he doesn’t keep it scored somewhere in case you need it, no, it stays right there, always, next to his, as if it belongs there.

You know it doesn’t, it feels weird, romantic, and domestic, and fuck it, you never left any of your belongings in your ex-boyfriend’s apartment. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to take it out and throw it away.

It’s because you might need it.

Yes, you might need it.

That’s what you tell yourself.

Things start going downhill when you break rule number 3.

Technically you didn’t break it.

You didn’t exactly invite him over.

A phone call at midnight while drunk-you slurred out incomprehensible words and sobbed like a child to whom somebody just stole their favourite teddy bear can’t be considered an invite, right? In your defense, when he hung off the call, making you sob even harder cause you thought you fucked it up another time, you weren’t expecting the bell to ring ten minutes later. And when you dragged your body to the door, you didn’t expect to find him standing there, his nightwear only covered with a jacket, his hair a mess, and his breath short, a clear sign he rushed to your place.

“Are you okay?” Haechan asks worriedly, shaking your shoulders to make sure you’re alive and not a creation of his imagination.

If you were your usual you, you would’ve slapped him. Wasn’t it clear that you are not fine? But you’re not there tonight, so you say something else.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, tears streaming down your face as you feel guiltier than ever, “I didn’t know who to call.”

If you were your usual you, you would’ve been able to see the glint that crossed Haechan’s eyes at your words, probably even to hear his heart skip a beat and his hands shake for a brief moment, but again, you are not there tonight.

“What happened?” He asks, trying to appear calm but he’s not calm at all. You are vulnerable, you. And out of all the people to be vulnerable with, you chose him.

“I’m an asshole,” you mumble, letting your body fall into his arms, face hiding in the crook of his neck while you let go to a nervous cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here now. Should we sit?”

You nod, but you’re not really giving orders to your body when he drags you to the couch and lets you cuddle up next to him, shushing you and rubbing circles on your back.

“I never do anything right,” you mutter, holding yourself closer to him, hoping you’ll disappear into him and won’t have to face another day.

“I don’t think so.”

“But you don’t know me, you… if I only… if you only knew all my flaws you would run away, even if between us was just sex.”

Haechan’s face twists in pain as he looks down at you, only seeing your hair because your face is still pressed against his chest. “Cause it’s not?”

“We’re friends, but you…” your words die in your mouth, trying to give an order to all the things that are running in your head. “I try to fix things and then they go wrong, and how do I stop being a bad person? How do I stop hurting everybody?”

“Who did you hurt?”

“I mean… I am hurt, but I… is he manipulating, or am I truly a bitch?”

Haechan can’t follow you, he wants to be a support, but you aren’t giving him clues about anything that is going on and he’s terrified of crossing boundaries, especially now that he has you so close and honest in his arms. This feels more intimate than all the sex you shared, and it’s scarier.

“Who are you talking about?” He dares to ask, losing the hold on you when you sit up, moving away from his body, not much, your legs are still pressed together, and you search for his hand for comfort.

“My ex.”

“Your ex?”

You nod, biting your lips just to prevent another terrible sound to roll out. “I started thinking… about us and why we didn’t work out, and… there were so many things that didn’t sit right. I don’t think I was crazy over him, but I… I’ve always respected him. He surely wasn’t the love of my life but fuck,” at that you break down again, turning your face to the side because even if you’re in the middle of a breakdown you can’t be so vulnerable to Haechan’s eyes. “We’ve been together for a year and a half and only now, because I asked for more closure, he told me he used me just for sex. And as the dumbass pathetic mess I am, I… we… we used to fuck.”

Haechan’s jaw tenses as he listens to you, it’s probably not his place to syndicate since you two are using each other for the same reason, but it’s mutual and consensual. He coughs and then speaks when you don’t explain more. “After?”

“What?”

“You went back to him after the breakup… to fuck?”

“Yes,” you cry out, voice coming out in a yelp. And you know you look like a mess, tears and snot staining your face, but you can’t control your emotions anymore. You feel stupid. Every time you let your sentiments have the best, life proves you shouldn’t do it.

Haechan sighs, taking you back in his hold, letting you go off in his embrace. He doesn’t talk, not sure of what to say, and let silence pass by, lulling you, and drawing circles in your hair. Only when you’ve calmed down a bit he talks. “Why are you the bad person in this?”

“Cause he told me I’m insufferable. He said he loved me at first but… every day with me was ‘killing him’ or whatever. Because I… I like things done a certain way, I like order, I… I can’t let my life go into shambles, Hyuck. I’ve lived the worst days of my life because I had lost control, I feared I wasn’t going to make it out alive only because I wasn’t mentally there anymore, because I wasn’t in control. I let people walk over me and put myself last. I can’t go back there, I can’t.”

“You’re not insufferable for being honest. You’re sincere about what you feel, not the type of person that hides behind honesty to make fun of others or to push them out of their comfort zone. I mean, surely sometimes it’s a lot when you want to have so much control over things, and how badly you react at times when a minor thing doesn’t go as planned. But I think that there are some flaws the people that love us should learn and comprehend, and either decide it’s not a weight for them or be frank and break up. Not everyone can carry the baggage that we bring with us, and that’s fine.”

You sniffle, knowing he’s right, but also feeling that nobody seems to be able, or willing to even try, to carry the baggage you carry with you.

“Would you date me?” That was the alcohol talking, and the heartbreak, and Haechan knows it. But he doesn’t know how drunk and heartbroken you are. He doesn’t know if this is a tricky question, if you would’ve remembered it the next morning and instead of taking it as a friend supporting you, it would’ve caused you two to drift apart. He doesn’t want to lose you, so he circles around it the best he can.

“Your value is not in the people who would date you or not, not even in those who did, like your ex.”

“Yes but, isn’t this the same? I am using you for sex, I’m doing the same.”

“It’s not the same. We want this, and we’re friends. I’m here, supporting you. I don’t think he supported you that much while technically you were dating, am I wrong?”

“No, you’re right. I should’ve seen the signs.”

“We’re all good once things are done, but we can’t blame ourselves from the past. You were in love, it doesn’t matter that you weren’t madly in love, you never disrespected him. While he made you believe he loved you, and in reality, he stopped feeling that and still used you. So, who’s the asshole here?”

“Him,” you whisper with a shaky voice.

“Good, that’s my good girl,” he praises, caressing your cheeks and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “See, you can see things clearly after the storm.”

You hum, a small smile plastering on your face before you cuddle closer to him. You take a deep breath, inhaling his perfume and you feel at peace. “You know I like you, right? Like, I respect you and care for you.”

Haechan’s smile goes from ear to ear, deep down he does, but he would’ve never expected you to say it out loud. “I know, even if you run away from my bed as if I bite you.”

You laugh, hiding your face against his chest and your fingers tighten around his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to an empty bed anyway, so it’s not much of a difference when I wake up and don’t find you there.”

Your head rolls up, chin pressing between his sternum as your eyes meet his. “Mind not waking up to an empty bed tomorrow?”

“Mh?”

“Can you please stay the night?” You ask shily, voice quivering. “I know I’m selfish, but I need someone with me.”

Haechan smiles, “It’s not selfish, that’s what friends do.”

That’s what friends do.

Cleaning your smudged makeup and tears.

Giving you water and an aspirin.

Helping you clean your body and even apply moisturizer.

Taking care of your hair.

Putting you in clean nightwear.

Whispering a song to your ear to make you fall asleep.

Holding you close the entire night, so you don’t have nightmares.

Yeah, that’s what friends do.

You know Haechan has a… sparkling personality. He’s chatty, outgoing, and friendly with everyone. He’s not so different from Johnny, so you two get along well because you grew up with your best friend starting conversations even with walls, it doesn’t annoy you when Haechan does the same.

Well, it didn’t annoy you.

Other than that, Haechan has this tendency of flirting with pretty much everyone — of age, and that doesn’t give signs of discomfort — not so different than you, so you couldn’t get mad at him for that, right? Those flirty remarks are jokes, silly things that fit into the moment and that he says just for funny purposes, right?

You aren’t so sure about it. And you aren’t even sure why you care so much. That sensation at the pit of your stomach every time he talks with someone else, touches them, or winks and smirks, is not normal. You know he’s going to take you home and fuck you all night, giving you exactly what you ask for, so why do you feel like this?

“This place is dope.” Mark’s voice rings loudly in your ear, and his body touches yours as he messily sits next to you on the bench, dragging you out of the intense staring competition you were having with yourself, Haechan and his new friend’s body.

“Yeah, Johnny always finds the best places,” you force out, gripping the empty glass in your hands tighter and obligating yourself to look around and not go back to Haechan and that fake blonde girl that is all over him.

“Seems like someone’s having fun,” Mark laughs, looking in front of you and you curse mentally because you know who he’s referring to, and right now you wish Haechan wasn’t having the time of his life. “Johnny made a match for himself and for Hyuck too, the only one missing is you.”

You chuckle, looking at the floor, sighing deeply before you decide that it’s better to divert the conversation from you. “Where’s Minjeong?”

“Oh, she’s at home, actually I’ll leave in a few minutes cause I have to go to her place,” he says with a smile on his face and you think it’s cute how he reacts when she’s brought up. He’s so madly in love and she is too, when they come along they make you wish you had what they had, for two seconds, just two. “Also doing Channie a favour, you know,” he winks and then chuckles, but you don’t find the implications funny, and your stomach twitches in discomfort.

Did Haechan ask him to leave the house empty or is he just being playful? And what if you won’t be the one Haechan takes home?

“I don’t think he’s going home with her,” you say, barely hiding the bitter tone. It’s not an opinion, you’re manifesting because you can’t bear that thought, but Mark is not on your track and he snickers again.

“Think they’ll end up doing it in the bathroom or the car?”

You force out a laugh while replying, “God, I hope not.” But you’re dying inside and you wish Mark would leave so you can run outside, slap yourself, go back inside and find somebody else to fuck that night and put your dumb brain — or heart, but you’re not ready to accept that just yet — to sleep.

“I think he will last until home, he’s not a fan of doing it in unpractical places, dirty or too risky.”

“Is the car risky?”

“Yes,” he replies as if he’s shocked by your underestimation. “People know what goes on even if they can’t see, and then it moves and fogs and it’s… embarrassing. Haechan has never been that attracted to somebody to the point of fucking in a car, he’d rather go home with his balls blue.”

Oh.

“Too much information,” you joke, shrugging off how your body heated up, and Mark apologies through laughter before standing up.

“Sorry again. Man, I’m used to making fun of him with him and got carried away.”

“It’s fine, I’m a grown woman, sex doesn’t traumatize me,” you reassure but your dumb heart is beating weirdly faster in your chest, and the awareness that Haechan never done it with anybody else, that he also broke one of his unspoken rules for you, is driving you insane.

Now you’d like to get up and drag him by the hair and ask him if he would fuck her in a car but you don’t, you can’t. So you say your goodbyes to Mark and then stand up to walk to the bar, some alcohol will do.

“Hey, pretty,” a man’s voice speaks from the side; barely five minutes of peace and you are already crowded with unwanted attention.

“Hi,” you reply back, trying to bite back the bitterness of your voice, whoever that man is, he isn’t the man you want to reach your side.

“All alone here?”

You roll your eyes at his lame pick-up words and at the hint of the smirk you can hear in his voice. “I’m with friends, just need to cool down for a bit.”

“Oh, all dating and all over each other while they forget about you,” he jokes and only then you turn around. Partially true, but being left alone by your friends had never been a problem, you always found someone that wanted to dance with you, even right now you have this man — a handsome man, with black hair, tanned skin, and a somehow not creepy smile — hitting on you but he isn’t the man you want.

“I’m not actually,” you lie, you don’t even know why. You could’ve said yes, flirted with him a bit more, ground against each other for a while before going home, to his place, wait, to his place? What if he was a murderer? And with what car? You should’ve called a Uber, or worst, slept over. But soon you realize his bed isn’t the bed you want to fall asleep into after some draining orgasms. The idea of even being at his place makes your skin crawl and you push down a groan when two brown eyes, auburn hair and bronze skin fill your thoughts instead.

“Then why are you alone? You’re too pretty to be wasted here, sitting all by yourself. I could hear your thoughts from there,” he says, pointing at where he was sitting before.

Your face twitches in irritation, you don’t like being called pretty, not with that tone at least, and not by men that aren’t Hae— anyway, you don’t like it. It feels like mockery and when it comes from men’s lips it feels like they’re trying to box you up there, as if being pretty is all you’re worth but at the same time, they can’t compliment you with words like ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’ because then they would boost your ego too much and they cannot compete with confident women.

“And what were my thoughts, Harry Potter?” You joke, trying to hide the bitter tone with a forced small smile.

He snorts, shaking his head, and shifting closer to you. Your first reaction is to move away but another body on the other side stops you from going far.

“I don’t recall Harry Potter being able to mind read,” he whispers, and you feel his breath collide against your neck, and his fingers graze your thigh. “Anyway, I could tell you were begging for attention.”

You gulp. You don’t like this anymore, you didn’t like this in the first place, to be honest. But him being all over your personal space without your consent is making you uncomfortable and for some reason, you can’t react like usual. Maybe it’s because he’s not doing anything, or well, not something so evident that wouldn’t make the whole club call you a crazy attention whore for accusing an innocent man.

So, you sit quietly; if you don’t talk back, he’ll get tired and will leave, that’s what you pray for. You just have to wait for a miracle.

And just when you’re about to lose all hope, and the man moves even closer to you, a fit of cough brings you back to earth.

“Honey,” Haechan calls, “sorry, the line at the bathroom was endless. Should we go?”

It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you, but once your brain registers his voice, you let go of a breath of relief, and when you turn around you meet the pissed-off expression of the man next to you.

“Who’s this?”

“Her boyfriend,” Haechan talks before you can even think of an answer, too dumb you were already thinking of a short way to explain what was going on between you. “Needed something, sir?”

Haechan is clearly mocking him, staring at the stranger with a challenging glare and moving closer to you, almost to shield you from him.

“Nothing, have a great night,” the man mutters angrily before walking away.

“You too!” Haechan screams and then turns to you. “Are you alright? It seemed like he was crossing some lines.”

You’re still shaken, and only mumble some hums as a reply. It’s not really because of that man but mostly because you weren’t expecting this from Haechan. Or worse, you weren’t expecting your heart to react when he called himself your boyfriend.

“I’m fine,” you whisper before briefly looking around, this is getting too much. You don’t give him time to check another time that you’re up and walking speedily to grab your jacket and storm outside. Haechan doesn’t get it, for the nth time he can’t predict anything of you, and he feels guilty because maybe he read you wrong, maybe you were willingly flirting with that man and he fucked up everything. But he still runs after you, and that’s, one, not what you expected, and two, not what you needed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were flirting back with him,” he apologizes, running after you, grabbing your wrist, and forcing you to turn around.

You sniffle, looking at the ground because this is so pathetic and it’s already the second time he catches you crying and you can’t bear how vulnerable you have shown yourself to him — yes, that is too many times for you. Bottling up feelings and emotions is your top skill after programming everything like a mastermind to make sure everything would flow perfectly and everyone would have a very specific image of you, so why the hell are you a mess every time he comes around?

“I can go talk to him and explain it to him —”

“No,” you stop him. “I… I’m a bit overwhelmed because I… I wasted a night out, I could’ve stayed at home and written a little or gone on with my favourite series, but you know…”

“Fleabag?” He taunts, tilting his head as he tries to meet your eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper, running a hand on your neck.

“You already know it by heart, it would be your tenth rewatch,” he jokes but when you look at him with your lips awkwardly pressed in a thin line, his eyes go wide. “Oh God, you started it again?”

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, “it’s my comfort show, and then the other day I fucked up again, I needed to see myself being a total failure in someone else and Fleabag is always there for me.”

Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, still staring at you with an amused expression. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Need a hot priest too?”

That should make you laugh — oh, how much you wanted that — but it only makes you let out a chocked sob because fuck, he surely doesn’t carry a rosary and the bible is not his favourite book, he can’t say mass, but you feel like Haechan is your hot priest. He’s fucking you up in ways nobody else ever did. Fleabag at least had God and morals to come between them but you, what do you have? Nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling you in a hug, “no hot priests, no judging for your fixations. How about you tell me what is going on?”

“No,” you reply, hiding in his hold. It should be easy, embarrassing but easy, to slur out that you’re a mess because you feared he wasn’t going to pay you a bit of attention, surely you should’ve turned it into a confession of how dick-addicted you were and how badly you needed him — vulgarly, his cock — after an entire week of absence, but it’s not easy to be your usual — or past — self when you feel like you are missing him more than you are missing what he knows how to use best. “You should go inside, she’s waiting for you.” So you place the weight on him, hoping he won’t take you home because you can’t do another night like when you called him in the middle of desperation.

You don’t catch his expression, a held-back smirk mixed with eyes full of surprise, but that would be the look on his face that you’d see if you’d stopped staring at the cobblestones on the sidewalk.

“Are you… jealous?”

Your head is not facing the ground anymore, with a snap so fast you know it’s a miracle you didn’t break your neck, your eyes lock with Haechan’s. And then you laugh, hysterically. It’s a fake laugh and he gets it, he can see you panic, he saw it in your eyes that brief moment they intertwined, and he knows.

You are jealous.

And you know he knows it, so you have to fix this mess.

“Fine, I wanted to fuck you tonight, it’s been a week and I’m kinda needy, and seeing you with her got me mad, but not jealous. Do you know when you’re horny, you think you’re close to getting some relief and then something happens and what you have in mind doesn’t happen anymore?” You ask, and you see in his face that he’s barely following the words you’re spitting out before you can betray yourself. “But it’s fine, my toys are still working, so I can use them instead.”

“Are you walking home?”

Oh, so he doesn’t care about anything you said? He didn’t believe it, right? Fuck, now he’ll think you love him.

“Yes.”

Haechan shakes his head, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the opposite side. “Come on, don’t make me drag you.”

“I’m not going back inside,” you say, trying to pull away and he stops, sighing.

“Honey, I’m taking you home.”

Oh.

You’d fight if you weren’t a mess, you surely would do it and tell him it’s not necessary, but you need a ride back home so that’s the only reason you say yes. You don’t hope you will break rule number three again and he will fuck away this sadness you’re carrying around. Why are you even sad? He’s there, right at your side, driving you home after you cried like a child in the middle of the street, comparing yourself to a fucking tv series character, an insane character, by the way.

“Do you think I talk to myself?”

“What?” He almost swerves when you talk after five minutes of straight silence.

“Like Fleabag, you know. The thing she does when she talks to us?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen you turn around mid-conversation to stare at a spot behind you or to your side to talk to a camera, so I guess no.”

You sit in silence, blankly staring at the street in front of you. Oh, you do. Not the camera, not really, but you are slowly transcending into the madness of that old cat lady that Johnny always talked about.

“I’m insane,” you cry out.

Haechan laughs, turning to stare at you for a split second, and smiling again at your devasted face. “I just think you’re drunk.”

“I didn’t drink,” you huff, throwing your head back against the seat and closing your eyes while you damn every decision that led you there. “Got two small glasses of something that wasn’t even worth it while I watched you grind on her all night.”

Shit.

Fuck.

“She was hot.”

Think fast. Think fast. Think fast.

“You should’ve gone home with her. Can we go back so I will go home with her?”

“I take it back, you are insane, not drunk,” he giggles, caressing your thigh when the car stops at a traffic light.

You groan. Why is he so unfazed by your weird tactics? Why does he laugh so tenderly even when he’s teasing you? Why does it feel like he holds so much love in his voice, words, and touches? “I’m sorry, it was a shitty night and I’m… overstimulated. Not sexually, but mentally. Everything feels doubled.”

“That’s why I’m taking you home.”

Your brain has many things to say but you keep your mouth shut, you already messed up enough tonight and you’re not sure you can live tomorrow with the consequences of these minor errors already, so adding more to the list wouldn’t be a wise thing.

When you arrive home you don’t move. You should jump off the car to slump in your bed not even changing yourself — once again going against one of the thousands of rules you have in order to survive in the insanity of your sanity. But you don’t want to leave his side. You like being around Haechan, even when you don’t talk, even right now that you feel on the verge of tears again and you can’t blame your hormones, while the music plays from the radio.

And Haechan gets it. Your usual self? Out of the car in a second; the first times you two hung out you barely gave him time to stop before you were under the porch of the complex you lived in. He once again has no idea what’s going on inside you, but he knows he can’t leave you alone. He doesn’t care if you use toys, but for how shaken you look, he knows the only thing you’ll pick up will be the phone to call your ex, and he doesn’t want that. You don’t deserve to be hurt, and your ex doesn’t even deserve to hear your voice.

“Wanna come to my place?” He asks, breaking the silence, staring at you while you’re lost with the gaze in front of you on the quite empty road of your house. “You have everything there anyway.”

You have everything there anyway.

His toothbrush that became yours.

His white t-shirt that became yours.

A new set of towels he had bought just for you.

His favourite mug that became yours.

A warm bed. A pillow with a beating heart. And probably something else you’re not ready to face yet.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

Haechan shouldn’t smile this big when those words leave your lips and you slump in your seat letting go of the tension, but he does. He knows you’re drunk, he knows you’ll go back to being your distant self in the morning, and probably he won’t even find you there when he wakes up, but he likes this new side of you so he wants to enjoy it while it lasts.

Home.

He loves the way it rolls from your lips and how that house feels like home when you’re inside.

Apparently, your new plan is to give Haechan a heart attack, cause when he wakes up in the morning and, not only still finds you there, but finds you cuddled up on top of him, he feels like dying. He is not even sure you are you, maybe he’s making you up and all of this is a dream.

Now that you are awake you feel the same. You are in his bed, wearing his shirt and pants, it’s nine in the morning, your clothes are not scattered on the floor and the sheets aren’t a mess. Why? You know why. Unfortunately, you weren’t drunk enough the night before to forget how embarrassing it had been, but you wish you could find another reason.

“Oh, hi,” he cheers when you enter the kitchen after ten minutes of contemplating whether running away now was a good idea or if the more you acted weird, the worst it got. “Headache?”

“No, luckily no,” you reply, running a hand on your face and sitting on a chair. “Why are you cooking, trying to blow us up?”

“Oh, you’re back, I was starting to worry,” he laughs at your snarky remark, shaking his head.

You don’t reply, only drop on your arms, resting your head on them against the table as you watch him move around. He might not be a good chef, but you love the way he moves, it’s like his body always makes sure to remind you of all the years he spent doing ballet, and even if he hates it now, you’re glad he did it.

He’s hot, even in the morning, even with his eyes still sleepy and hair a mess. But you feel like something of the crazy, pungent, chemistry that used to buzz between you stopped doing so. Or maybe this is a friend moment without the benefits? You can’t tell, and you just want to get back on the benefits again because the whole friends’ thing is turning romantic and you don’t like it.

So, your feet move quickly, making you reach him in a second and wrap your arms around his body.

“What are you—”

“Shh,” you shush him, moving your hands lower on his abdomen.

“Oh, sure, of course, you weren’t just hugging me, fuck,” he curses when you tease his inner thighs, never touching his sensitive part. There is a hint of sadness in his words but you pretend you don’t get it.

“Want you, Hyuckie,” you pout against his ear, and you can feel him shiver in your hold.

“Not now,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand to move it away.

“Then when?” You ask, slipping your hand into the rubber band after you slapped his away. “You never fucked me in the morning, you know?”

Haechan gulps and turns off the stove, hands losing their grip on everything they touch while your hands kept teasing him more and more.

“When we had all, mhh, day to ourselves,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes as he tries to don’t give in to you.

“Fucked me in the evening, at night, and in the afternoon.”

“You slept till noon of course I couldn’t fuck you in your sleep.”

“Well, couldn’t or wouldn’t, you still didn’t, and I need you to do it now.”

Haechan’s breath falters when your fingers wrap around his dick and start moving to get him hard, head reclined low as he tries to hold in the moans you’re dragging out of him.

“Can you get hard for me?” You whisper teasingly and Haechan groans, glaring at you.

“Now you think I can’t get hard?”

You chuckle at his voice and also because you can feel his cock hardening in your hand with each stroke on it.

“Good,” you hum, starting to kiss his neck and when his head rolls back and he searches for your lips on his, you pull away.

“Oh, cool, went back to phase one?” He says and you can hear the bit of anger in his voice even if he’s trying to hide it.

You don’t know what to reply, you can turn it into something sexual, so he won’t get mad and keep this thing going. You don’t even know why you pulled away. Well, yes, you do, but why are you so afraid all of a sudden?

“Fuck me first and then maybe later you’ll get a kiss.” This will do, coming out sultrily it only sounds like dirty talk and hides your insecurities. “You left me hanging for too long to get what you want so easily.”

And Haechan falls for it, groaning again and leaning back on your shoulder while his eyes are shut and from his lips start to come out more moans.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whimpers, fucking back into your hands.

You smirk, finding yourself staring at his blissed face a bit too long, but he looks just so beautiful like this, with his long lashes resting on his full soft cheeks, and his plump lips parted to let out soft, raspy whimpers.

“Wanna come?”

“In — fuck — in your mouth, please. Use your mouth.”

Your hands leave his dick, and you take two steps back.

“Turn around and take your pants off,” you order and stare at him following your instructions in the blink of an eye. When he’s done, you get on your knees and don’t waste time taking his hard cock in your mouth.

“Shit,” Haechan groans, throwing his head back and wrapping his hands in your hair, he doesn’t force your face down, leaving total control in your hands, he simply likes to hold on to you somehow.

You go for a steady rhythm, not fast but not slow to tease him and waste more time. You’re dripping and you need him inside you soon. And for your luck, it doesn’t take him long to come. After all, you know him and what drives him crazy. So one of your hands fondles his balls while the other wraps around his base, and start working on him while your tongue and cheeks focus on his tip. You also know that he loves hearing you moan around him, and watching your eyelid flatter as you stare up at him, and he never told you but when tears start spilling out of the corner of your eyes, his cock throbs harder.

“Mhh, fuck, fuck,” he rasps out, followed by chants of your name as his knees wobble and his hips buck up while he comes in your mouth. His eyes roll back when you pull away with a pop sound and then swallow everything without breaking eye contact. “You drive me insane,” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply.

“Fuck me,” you urge, standing up again, his words flying over your head. “Please.”

Haechan nods, shaking his head to try to shake the post-orgasm haze out of his mind. “Come here,” he hums, pulling you closer, moving his hands on your body to undress you of the pants and underwear before lifting you on the countertop.

But that’s not what you want.

“No,” you huff, squirming in his hold. “From behind, please.”

That’s not what Haechan wants, when you fuck in that position is because you want it particularly hard and that’s not what he wants to give to you, not now. He’s still trapped in that sense of what was different from the night before and he’s not ready to bear with your shift to your old self again. But when he looks into your eyes, he realizes that spell is already far gone, no more tenderness or heartfelt conversation, just sex and greed.

But you are still there, and it never happened before, and this is better than nothing, so he gives you what you want.

“Bend over,” he says, helping you off the kitchen and waiting for you to get in position. He would find the view hot, incredibly hot, your ass pushing back up into him, your wet folds pressing against the tip of his cock, your hips swinging in desperation, and it is hot, but he can’t enjoy it fully; if it only wasn’t for that small twinge of pain in his heart.

“Please, fuck me,” you beg again when he doesn’t push in right away, too lost at staring blankly at your back.

“Are you in a rush? Somewhere to be better than here?” He bites back, it’s a bitter tease, not a sensual one, and his voice trembles, and so do his hands on your hips.

“I need you, please,” you grunt, throwing your head down, “please.”

Haechan swallows the gulp in his throat and pushes into you. He’s always delicate when he thrusts in the first time, he knows you’re wet and ready to take him but he’s always careful and you wish you didn’t find it so attractive, but you do. Nobody ever cared for you that much during sex, well, nobody ever cares for you that much in general.

And when he starts moving in and out of you, your heart loses another beat. He fills you up so nicely, you hate to compliment every part of him but fuck, he’s perfect, he fits perfectly and you feel him everywhere, it’s like he was made just for you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you clench down on him. “Want it harder, babe?”

“Yes, please.”

His hips start snapping against you in a fast rhythm, causing your bones to hit the hard surface of the countertop, but you don’t care, you even find the slight pain more exciting.

Haechan’s groans fill your ears, as the grip of his hands on you gets incredibly tighter. It’s rough like you asked but not how you’re used to. You don’t dare to turn your neck to get a peek at him but you know his brows are knitted and his eyes are dark. This doesn’t feel like fun like your usual hard fucks, it’s like a sense of sadness and bitterness is running between you and it makes your heart sting.

“Haechan,” you call out his name, and only for a second his grip softens, but you don’t continue, you don’t even know what you want, or if you want something.

“What?” He growls in response, hips slamming harshly against your ass. “Is this still not enough? Am I still not enough? Will I ever be enough for you?”

Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel a tear streak down your eyes and you shake your head swiftly, trying to hold onto something. “No, it is,” you breathe out. “You are, fuck, you are enough,” you cry, hissing when he slaps your ass.

“Yeah? Then what do you want? What do I have to do to make you happy?”

“Kiss me,” you mumble, pushing your head back, trying to reach for his lips. “Ple-please, want you — umh — you all over me.”

And when he leans in, kissing you with eagerness, it’s like the gloomy cloud that was shadowing over you dissolves in the air, his grip turns delicate, and his face relaxes, while his hips slow down until they come to a stop. Haechan doesn’t pull away and you don’t care you’re almost struggling for air, feeling breathless, gasping against his lips makes you feel alive more than ever.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a gasp. He stares at your face for a moment, watching a tear roll down your cheeks, and he’s tempted to wipe it away with a gentle touch of his fingers, but he doesn’t give in to temptation. If you weren’t in yourself the night before, he’s not in himself right now, and he feels that he might want to see you cry, cry for him.

Another guttural sound rolls from his lips when he drifts his gaze away and pushes you flat on the countertop with force, picking up the same rhythm as before, snapping against you so fast that your heart starts racing faster in your chest that’s raising up and down in a frenetic rhythm.

“Too — too much,” you whimper, letting your shoulder relax when you fear you won’t be able to keep your body up much more.

Haechan snickers, moving a hand down to knead the flesh of your ass harshly as he leans closer to you. “Really? Thought you asked me to fuck you like this.”

You nod weakly, muscles of your neck sore, and you close your eyes because you feel more tears threatening to spill out, it’s a mix of physical pleasure and mental — emotional — pain you can’t deal with.

“I would’ve fucked you differently,” he almost growls next to your ears, and you know he’s mad. “Nice and slow, probably would’ve even eaten you out but you asked for this and I’m giving you this,” his voice almost breaks and his hips falter, his heart is beating so loud in his ribcage you can feel it against your back. “Want me to stop?” And here he is, as always, no matter the pain you put him through by playing a game of hide and seek inside your true self where he can’t grasp anything real, his voice still turns soft, weak, almost shy, as he makes sure this truly is not getting too much for you. Because you hit left and right with your sword and your blinded eyes but he won’t ever hurt you even if he’s clearly the one bleeding.

“No,” you sniffle, opening your eyes to try to glimpse at his, but the position doesn’t offer you a great view. “Want you, please. I — I need you, Hyuck, so much.”

He nods quickly and then starts thrusting into you, this time he won’t stop until you come, but he pushes your body up against his because he needs you. He needs your scent to be all over his skin, he needs to remind himself you’re not a dream even if you continuously slip from his fingers, he needs to remind you and himself that he’s the only one that has you like this. He is the best you ever had and that’s a little consolation.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he whimpers, forehead frowning while sweat starts pearling his skin as he looks at your ass bouncing on him. “Gonna come?”

“Ye-yes, please,” you beg, and you don’t even know why. You don’t have to ask for his permission to come but it’s like you want him to end this moment.

“Hold on just a bit more, I’m close,” he replies, “want to come with you.”

You nod mindlessly, letting out louder and whinier moans while your hands desperately search for some kind of contact and your legs shake as your orgasm builds up with more violence inside you.

“Be a good girl and come with me,” he orders and you feel one of his hands reach in front of your body until it finds your clit. He groans loudly when your pussy clenches hard around him and your body tenses up while your orgasm washes over, leaving you with your mouth parted but too breathless to let out sounds. Haechan’s not silent, he curses your name and some swear words while his hips keep ramming into you as he pumps his cum in and out of your hole.

“Shit,” he comments, pulling out of you sooner than you wish he would, leaving you empty and cold.

You think he’s behind you, but when you turn around struggling, you see he’s not in the kitchen anymore and you collapse on the floor, legs too weak and trembling to hold you and your heavy heart up.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass while you sit naked on the floor of his kitchen with your hands in your hair wondering where did you go wrong. You just know it feels like an eternity and when you hear footsteps approach, you quickly jump on your feet to cover up and don’t let him find you like that.

Once you pulled back up your clothes, and he’s back in the room, you don’t know what to say, and you don’t even feel like staring at him.

“You can…” he starts but then stops and when your eyes lift from the ground, you see he’s turned around, turning on the stoves again.

“I can?”

“Nothing,” he mutters. “You know where everything in this house is. Do whatever you want.”

“Are you — are you mad?” You chuckle nervously, shaky fingers fixing your hair behind your ears.

He shrugs, shaking his head, “I’m not, I just know you won’t do what I propose, so if you want to eat, take a shower and grab some new clothes, do it. But if you want to leave, it’s fine, too.”

You bite your lips; you know your typical answer would be easy: leave. But right now, it feels like the wrong one. You can’t bet on it, but Haechan seems sad, even angry, and the cold wall between you and his back is making you feel guilty for something you don’t even know. You just proposed to fuck, it was normal in your relationship, so why was he mad and why were you sad? What happened in that fragment when your bodies were tangled in a mess bigger than what it looked like?

“I’ll stay for a bit…” you whisper and when he turns around with wide eyes you add, “if it’s fine for you.”

“Yeah, I told you, everything you decide it’s fine for me. Want breakfast?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“And maybe new clothes?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, warm dispersing on his face again.

“Your closet?”

“My closet.”

The names you start slurring in bed don’t belong to Haechan. Honestly, you haven’t seen Haechan in over two weeks now. That morning you needed him to prove you something, only to be proven the complete opposite. Things with him weren’t going where you planned them to go in the first place.

And the best solution would be to talk about it, set some boundaries again, or put an end to things like adults, but, even if the years pass by, you feel like you only keep getting older but not wiser.

You think you are stupid and childish, and you hate yourself.

But you still don’t pick the best solutions. Actually, you don’t pick solutions at all, you just fuck things up because you’re not used to them going right.

You ghosted him. Left his place after breakfast with a promise to text him in the week just to never pick up the phone to go to his contact again. You even have to avoid Johnny and your friend’s nights out because you can’t face him.

You feel like you cheated on him. No, there wasn’t written or slurred speech anywhere that you two were exclusive but you two were exclusive. Haechan never fucked someone else behind your back, and he also most of the times implied he didn’t because, since you two did it raw, he wanted to make sure he was only active with you.

And you… you crossed a line you shouldn’t have crossed.

You went back to your ex and met up with two people you met at a club, when, too heartbroken, you needed someone to fill the void inside of you, only for things to get worst and leave you heartbroken, full of guilt and unsatisfied.

You should pick up your phone, call him over and explain, you’re still in time to fix this in a way he won’t hate you forever, but you don’t.

You go to work, come back home, slump on the couch with food and movies, or stay out running until you can barely feel your legs, stand under the shower as if the bill won’t crash you at the end of the month and then go to sleep, or try to, while you fight with your brain and heart and the emotions none of the three of you knows how to cope with, just to do it all over again the next day.

It’s an endless routine where you try to push him out, but it doesn’t seem to work.

It had always been easy to delete people from your life like this. One cut, one push out of your protected zone, and they were long forgotten.

So why is it so hard with him?

But you still don’t pick up that damn phone, not even when a month passes by and Haechan reaches for you, apologizing.

[Monday]

pathetic loser hey, it’s been a while i just wanted to check if everything’s alright

[Wednesday]

pathetic loser will you be there at johnny’s dinner at his place?

maybe we can talk there?

[Friday]

pathetic loser i didn’t ask johnny but i guess you won’t be there so i just hope you’re okay

You don’t reply, only stare at those texts trying to force yourself to grab the phone and call him because he deserves that more than a dry reply in a text. But you don’t know what to say, and you’d probably hope he won’t answer the call, so you’ll have an excuse to say you’ve tried but he didn’t reply. And when you try to come up with something that can explain to him this whole situation and at the same time don’t tear you apart, another week passes by.

[Thursday]

pathetic loser i won’t bother you again i promise

i just wanted to apologize if i did something that made you uncomfortable that night/morning

i don’t know what it is but it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, after all you don’t owe me anything

it was just sex anyway so it’s fine

i will stop hanging around with johnny when i know he plans with all of us so you don’t have to avoid him too

he misses you, please don’t let some sex come between your friendship

anyway back to us, i know i sound like a loser but i had fun and i hope you don’t regret this totally, sorry if i messed something up i didn’t do it on purpose

i’ve written too much so yeah hope you’re fine, have a great life (you can block me if you want to, if you didn’t already)

You don’t reply even this time, but you cry and sob into your pillow, covered by your sheets as the phone glows in the dark. And you cry and cry until you feel like you can’t breathe and the weight on your chest gets heavier and pushes you down into your misery.

It was supposed to be just silly, superficial, and fun sex, how did it turn into this?

Haechan didn’t mean to mess something up.

But Haechan doesn’t know that the only thing he messed up with is your heart.

It takes you a while, but you get over him and get back to your daily life, the real one. No more depressing couch-sitting-eating sessions or extremely exhausting workouts to burn your brain down, no more avoiding social life and crying yourself to sleep.

Johnny didn’t understand what happened, he felt like there was something going on between you and Haechan, but you never told him anything and you wouldn’t keep that a secret to yourself, right? Not from him at least. But even if he didn’t know the reasoning he gently, and friendly, dragged you out of the house without asking many questions, he just wanted you back.

And you were back, a bit less chatty and loud, with a lightly dimmed glow in your eyes, and with a tongue that stopped flirting with every breathing being, but you were there.

Haechan had disappeared, he was true to his promise, and you never saw him in the mixed-groups group hangouts, so moving on from him had been easier.

You don’t hear his laugh anymore, you don’t laugh at his jokes, you can’t feel his hand secretly and gently rest on your thighs under the table, he can’t rest his head on your shoulder when the alcohol kicks in and he is too wasted, you don’t have someone to dance with or run away back home when your social battery dies.

You don’t have him.

And it sucks.

But you try not to show it. You are trying to move on, and even if you hate how tortuous it feels this time and how you still look for his dumb-looking, slap-attracting, handsome, kissable face, you are trying.

You are also failing.

When the seventh drink of the night reaches your stomach, you’re not even sure you’d be able to answer if someone asked what’s your name. And you hate that a name is still loud and clear, ringing in your mind like a permanent reminder that maybe, just maybe, you are not getting over him.

So, you drag your legs up and feel your head turn, everything is spinning but you need to find someone that will drown him out. You can’t keep going on like this.

“Hi,” you mumble when you reach the bar and sit clumsily on the stool.

“Oh, hi, babe. Look what we have here,” the man replies, studying you.

“Wanna fuck?”

“Oh, you go straight to the point, and I wouldn’t say no if only you didn’t look completely out of yourself.”

“I’m not,” you reply, shaking your head — terrible idea, everything spins faster, and you have to squeeze your eyes to find balance again. “I just had a few drinks.”

“A few?”

“Yeah. I can take you home,” you wink, caressing his arm with two fingers and the stranger chuckles before shaking his head.

“I think we need to find somebody that knows you to take you home. Are you alone?”

You shake your head. “You could take me home. I’m good, I give amaaazing blowjobs.”

“I don’t want to doubt your abilities, but you’re drunk,” he says, starting to look around, hoping to be lucky enough to make eye contact with someone you may know.

“Come on, I need this. Is it because you think you can’t take me?” You still insist, pressing your finger on his chest in an accusative tone.

He snorts, “I can take you, but sober. Hey,” he calls someone, waving his hand and at the same time trying to keep your body up with his other one.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Johnny’s voice is clear and too loud, especially when he groans your name angrily after you try to avoid him.

“Do you know him?”

“He’s my bestie,” you say, rolling your eyes. “My bad, bad bestie. He made me meet someone that broke my heart, don’t let me go with him, pleaseee.”

“Man, she needs aspirin and a bed.”

Johnny nods, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the sit, “Yeah, I can see. Thank you for not taking advance of her.”

“Should be the norm,” he smiles. “Take care. And maybe talk with whoever broke your heart.”

“No,” you reply angrily, crossing your arms on your chest. “I’m mad at you,” you say to Johnny, trying to walk away from him but you need his support to don’t wiggle around like jelly. “You first say I need some fun and then the fun breaks my heart and now the fun at the bar is not okay because I’m not sober to you and him and why I can’t have nice things?”

Johnny stares at you as if you’re crazy; he had seen you drunk but never like this, so miserable, and the fact he has not even a faint idea of how and why you are like this, doesn’t sit right with him. “Why don’t we sit in a corner and talk?”

“I don’t want to. I want Haechan,” you slur out, collapsing on the sit and resting your head on his chest, but the music is loud and Johnny’s not sure he heard right.

“You want who?”

“Haehan,” you mumble against his shirt.

“Okay, I don’t know who or what you want but we need to go home, come on. Please, drag your feet to the car, I’ll carry you inside your place but please, let’s just make it to the car.”

Johnny has to carry you to the car in his arms because you are a boneless mess and he doesn’t want to end the night at the hospital because you broke your ankles on those damn heels; mental reminder to gift you heels you can easily walk on even when you have more alcohol than blood running in your veins.

The drive back home is a blur in your brain, you’re sure you’re not sleeping, but your head is spinning and at some point, you start shedding some tears and mumble chants of a name, Johnny supposes, but he can’t get it right. Your voice is low and groggy, and sobs come through every whimper that escapes your lips.

“My place or yours?” He asks, hoping you can give him an answer, but you answer other doubts instead.

“Hyuck,” you whisper, and Johnny finally has all the puzzle pieces to put together.

When you wake up in the morning with a throbbing headache and your stomach turned upside down, the last thing you want to deal with is your best friends’ stares and glances he throws at you as if he knows something you don’t know he knows.

You don’t ask him any questions right away, your brain is too far gone to deal with it, but after another aspirin and a coffee, you feel like you’re ready to face him. Except you’re not quite ready for what’s to come.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, rubbing your temples while you rest your elbows on his kitchen table.

“Haechan,” he replies with a smirk on his face as if he finally got you right where he wanted you, cornered. And well, you feel like you are, and maybe you should’ve waited a bit longer cause your acting skills are not at their best right now, but you take another sip from your cup, shrug, and then reply nonchalantly.

“What about him?”

Johnny’s eyes roll back as he huffs loudly. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Do what? You bring him up out of nowhere,” you say, but the calmness of your voice is being betrayed by the nervous bouncing of your leg and Johnny gets it immediately, and that’s when he shoots his arrow.

“You love him.”

“What?” You almost spit the coffee out while you stare at your best friend with wide eyes, hoping to see a reaction, hoping that this disgusted him to the point he will get up and focus on cleaning the table and insult you instead of twisting the knife in the wound that’s called ‘me and Haechan.’ But he’s impassive, and it’s written all over his face that he’s not buying it, or anyway, he wants to dig deep into all the secrets you kept from him.

“You love him,” he repeats, and those words coming out so slowly from his mouth make shivers run down your spine.

“I don’t,” you reply sternly, getting up to clean the spilled coffee and keep yourself busy.

“You do. You slurred his name all the way back home and I thought I was crazy until you said Hyuck and hell no, that’s him.” Johnny reaches you and now you also feel physically cornered by his big body — why the hell is he so big? — and physically disgusted because you did what? And why couldn’t he leave you in somebody else home? Slurring his name to a stranger wouldn’t have been as embarrassing as what you did.

“So? Are you going to answer? Or keep denying?” He presses you again, and before he can scold you as he usually does with an annoyed call of your name in a stern tone, you snap.

“We used to fuck, okay?”

“You did what?” Johnny almost screams at your face, and you push him back to walk to the living room.

“Don’t be surprised, you literally set us up.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? What happened to our friendship and our rules.” Johnny’s voice cracks as he tries to accept that you, his best friend, sister of another mother, and partner in crimes, really kept all of this behind him.

“Oh, screw rules, all those fucking rules I never know how to respect,” you huff, falling on the couch and holding your head in your hands. And Johnny has to rub his temples because all of this is insane and surreal to his ears.

“You don’t know how to respect them? You. Miss little rules?”

“Shut up.”

“Wait… your rules about sex? Are you talking about all that crap you believe won’t make you catch feelings?”

“It never made me catch feelings. It always worked. Clear boundaries, good sex, and everybody on their way.”

Johnny smirks, kneeling in front of you so you can’t avoid his gaze anymore. “You broke them.”

“I didn’t,” you mutter, and you want to slap his face because why is he having so much fun seeing your breakdown?

“You did. You just told me; you got mad when I mentioned them, and you wouldn’t get mad unless something didn’t go as you planned.”

“Nothing happened,” you retort, leg bouncing progressively faster as you feel your heart race and your body burn.

“No, you broke them.”

“I didn’t.”

“You fell in love with him.”

“Don’t,” you stop him with a glare that doesn’t scare away the smirk on his face. Instead, the look in your eyes, the way your lips are twitching, and your continuous nervous movements are everything Johnny needs to let him know he’s right.

“You fell in love with Haechan.”

You almost scream when those words roll from his lips, you hate hearing that thought, that fear that has been lingering in your brain every night for a month now. “Shut up, don’t make things up. I broke the rules of not telling you we fucked.”

“Oh, no, girl, I know you. You’re fidgeting with your fingers, and your voice is shaking, you’re straight-up lying and you can sell that bullshit to anybody else but not me, so spill the fuck you have to spill or else we’re going to have a long day.”

“There’s nothing to know. We started fucking, and then stopped, but I’m in my unlucky month and I don’t find anybody that’s good enough to satisfy me. And that’s why I’m breaking rules, I like to have fun, but I don’t like to try so many people and fuck with every person I see, you know I hate it.”

“Then why are you doing it? Your toys are not enough anymore?”

“Yeah, I’ll stick to them,” you cut it short, trying to avoid his eyes because you know you will fall. Johnny has this power of dragging things out of your mouth, you’re lucky he didn’t get the tiniest hint of what was going on between you and Haechan or he would’ve made you face some painful truths a long time ago.

“If it was so good, why did you stop?”

You shrug. Fuck.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t know, he wanted to see new people and we just stopped.”

“Really?” Johnny asks with a teasing edge to his voice, clearly mocking you. “He’s not seeing anybody.”

“Maybe he didn’t tell you. You didn’t know about us, and we were both friends with you, so. Or maybe he didn’t find another one, just like me.”

“He seems rather heartbroken, and he asked a weird question about you.”

Now it’s your time to be shocked. He asks about you? He doesn’t hate you after the way you treated him? You’re still in his mind? No, why would any of this matter? Why do you care? It doesn’t matter. “What?” Well, it shouldn’t matter.

“If everything was alright or if something happened to you.”

“Just checking on people is normal.” You shake it off with a nod and raise of shoulders, but something inside you is burning. It’s that flame you think you put out and yet found a way to spark up every time you don’t think about it.

“Not asking if something happened,” he says before walking around and studying you. You are avoiding his gaze and are a raging ball of nervousness, you weren’t even like this with your ex-boyfriend, let alone with your few hook-ups. And then something else clicks in his brain. “Did you cut him off without a word?” And when you don’t answer, and he calls out your name with urgency, you can’t lie anymore.

“Maybe,” you reply with a loud groan, your head falling backwards with force, hitting the backrest so hard you hurt yourself even if there’s the cushion dividing you from the hard surface. “Maybe I did.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He shouts, throwing his hands over his head.

“Johnny, please, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay? I know I was rude, and an asshole.”

“No, you’re in love, it’s different.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Why are you lying? You never called your ex-boyfriend’s name while you were wasted, you never broke any of your rules for him, it took you nothing to move on, and the only reason you got back was because you wanted revenge and because you needed to fill your life with something. You never cared for him nearly as half of what you care for Haechan, so why lie, and why lie to me?”

“I don’t want to,” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your brain spin again while your nails sink into the fabric of the pants Johnny gave you.

“Talk to me?”

“No, to love him.”

There it is; the loud confession. That confession you didn’t even do to yourself alone in the darkness of your room. It’s still bouncing against the walls of Johnny’s place in plain sight under the bright daylight and it pierces your ears and your heart.

Fuck. You’re screwed.

Your eyes lock with Johnny’s and your brain would like to lie and mumble some nonsense but your heart can’t keep bleeding without being taken care of anymore. So, hot salt starts streaming down your face silently and your head faces the ground while two strong arms wrap around you.

You’re screwed.

When you’ve cried all your tears in Johnny’s arms, and you feel like you can try to put it down to words you do it. Maybe with Johnny by your side, it will be easier.

“I don’t know what the hell he did to me.”

“That’s a nice start.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t consider the possibility of this going down a different path and starting to allow feelings in but… like this? I’ve never felt like this before, not even when I fell first, and I’m not even sure I’ve ever loved somebody before if this is how it’s supposed to feel.”

“Then why don’t just let yourself go for once? You don’t have to always have everything under control.”

“But I’m scared. I hated seeing him with someone that wasn’t me. The mere idea of him being with somebody else now makes me sick. This is scary.”

“Love can be scary at times, but that’s what it is.”

You breathe in deeply and rub your temples. “But what if it’s wrong? What if… God, I’m doing all this and I’m not even sure he likes me back.”

“Well, if it’s right, you know, right?”

You shrug, you thought it was right so many times before, and then it never was but this felt different, everything about Haechan hits different, it truly was like an arrow straight to your heart purposefully made to hit you straight to the core and cut you deep.

Johnny sighs, you already talked too much today and faced the truth, he knows he can’t push you any further.

“I’m not saying you have to take him back but… sometimes you can take the good things life gives you without tearing them into pieces. It will tear you into pieces if you keep putting rules to things that are destined to flow freely.”

Going back to the coast feels like torture, especially when both you and Haechan forgot to ask Johnny if the other was there and found out only when you hopped out of the cars and locked eyes after months.

No, you didn’t pick up the phone even after that conversation with Johnny. It felt humiliating to crawl back to him after so much time, so you decided that whatever was going on, was destined to die.

But when your eyes jump into his again, and cheesily, it feels like the time had stopped, you’re not so sure whatever was, or is, going on, is destined to die.

It’s awkward when you don’t know if you should greet him or not, but luckily in the mess of everyone greeting each other, you lose him in the ‘crowd’ of friends. Fortunately, most of them found somebody to bring along so there are double of people than the last time. Unfortunately, that leads you and Haechan to the same room of this summer. Of course, nobody knows, and you’re not quick enough to retort when Mark decides like this after sorting everybody else in other rooms, and Johnny’s not there to save your ass — probably he wouldn’t.

The tension can be cut with a knife and you feel like your head is exploding while you two make your way to the room and then start to put your things in place.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Haechan says, breaking the suffocating silence.

“No, it’s fine,” you almost choke on your words, unprepared, non-expecting he would talk to you first, “we did worse things together,” you chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood but you only get a forced snicker back before he turns around and gives you his back again. You know that wasn’t the smartest answer you could give, but you don’t know how to ease the tension and the heavy weight of guilt in the pit of your stomach.

You want to talk, that should be the right moment to do it, to apologize, at least. But you’re tongue-tied.

“Is there even something to do here during winter?” He speaks, still giving you his back, and it takes you a while to understand he’s addressing you.

“Uhm, yes,” you reply. “The city is nice, and there are mountains just forty minutes away from here so… usually with our families we used to ski.”

“Great,” Haechan hums, standing up, brushing his hands on his pants to flatten the creases of the fabric, “never done it before. Guess I’ll take a look around town. Last time I didn’t get to visit it,” he smiles before walking out and you feel the ground collapse under your feet.

You won’t survive three days like this.

You hated spending time in that house during winter when you were a child, the sun didn’t shine bright enough, the sand was wet and sticky, and you didn’t know how to ski, also you never got why your family spent so much money on that sport when they clearly weren’t as rich as Johnny’s parents, and no one of you was good enough for it to even be fun.

Now nothing changed, the cloudy weather over the sea is depressing, and watching your friends have fun is not making you feel any better, you still don’t know how to ski, and you have a lump in your throat as your brain runs faster than you, screaming how you put yourself in this situation.

The tea in your hand is not hot enough, you wasted too much time stealing glimpses at Haechan and his new crush to drink it when Johnny served it to everybody after all of you came back from the — for you terrible — ski session this afternoon. You didn’t do anything but sit on a bench and hold back your tears while everybody else was having fun. You should’ve stayed at home, it would’ve been better than having to deal with Wonyoung — apparently, that was her name — laugh and giggle every time Haechan opened his mouth, or their intertwined hands while they both tried to learn how to use the ski. And now it’s not going better, she’s sitting on his lap while he caresses her hair with one hand and the other draws circles on her palm, and all your friends are sharing knowing glares as they point at them.

You never had that with him, and the jealousy mixes with bitterness, until you realize that the arrangement you had didn’t include any of that. So why did you want it so much? Why do you want to be her so badly right now?

You sigh, running a finger on the mug in front of you, staring at the brownish liquid as if by magic you’re going to see your future in it, but you think it’s better like this, you’re pretty sure the picture would be a tragedy anyway.

When the talks get irritating, you decide to go back to your room, not even saying anything, you’re not sure about what they want to do, it was in the air to eat at a place downtown but you didn’t pay their talks much attention. You decide to go for a shower with the hope it will relax you and wash away some heaviness, but nothing much changes once you’re out and dressed up in clean clothes. It only gets worse when you open your room, and Haechan is there, laying on the bed with a hand behind his head and his phone in the other.

You pass in front of him, not saying a word, silently putting back in your purse your shampoo and conditioner, and other things you carried with you. He doesn’t talk either. It has been like this the whole day, barely acknowledging each other and now it’s getting too heavy. You owe him an apology, not to make things get back in place, they never will, but because he didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you say, turning around, “I’m sorry I avoided you.”

Haechan lifts his head, a small frown connecting his brows for a while, almost as if he’s trying to get what you’re referring to, and when he does, the muscles of his face relax. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t want to… to leave you like this.”

“It doesn’t matter, you had all the right to stop it,” he shrugs, looking down for a second, probably closing the app on his phone because you don’t hear the faint sound of the video playing anymore. “I don’t cry for sex.”

You hum, but you study his face to understand if he’s serious. Was it just sex for him? Were you just sex for him?

“I…” you stop and look away. Your leg is bouncing nervously and you’re playing with your fingers, pressing your nails into your skin. “I have to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I… I lo—”

“Haechannie!” Wonyoung’s voice rings loudly in the room, stopping you from going on. “We are taking a look around, want to come with me and keep me warm? Also, we’ll have dinner together.” You shouldn’t find the way she bats her eyes so irritating, neither her voice, or the way she’s looking at him right now, but you feel like puking, and you hope Haechan will decline; out of all the things he said before, you heard he was tired and wanted to go to bed, so he will say no, right?

“Yeah, I’d love to. Be there in a minute.”

“Ah! You’re the best, baby,” she cheers, running to leave a kiss on his cheeks and then walking out.

“You were saying?” He asks, turning his attention on you, shaking his hair out of his forehead.

You shake your head, gulping. “Nothing,” you smile, it’s forced and fake, and if he’d look closely, he’d see a tear at the corner of your eyes, but he doesn’t. He’s looking at you with his head slightly tilted in mild concern, but you know it’s just for niceties.

“It seemed serious, though?”

“It was just another apology you don’t want,” you breathe out in a bitter chuckle, rubbing your hands on your thighs while your gaze meets the floor. “I lost track of myself during the time we drifted apart, I’m sorry it… it fired back to you.”

“Oh,” he says, “it’s fine, seriously. I just care that you’re fine. You are fine, right?”

You hold back a sob and smile, feeling tears at the corner of your eyes. “Never been better.”

“Good,” he smiles. “You coming?”

“No, I’m tired, I’ll go to bed like a child that has school tomorrow at 8.”

Haechan laughs and then grabs his jacket. “’Kay, don’t take all the bed. You still have that bad habit, don’t you?”

You chuckle, giving him an apologetic look, “I have a bed too big for me only, I’m not used to sharing.”

He nods and then opens the door. “Leave a small patch for me, and don’t have too much fun all alone,” he winks.

You smile and then wave him goodbye.

If crying yourself to sleep was fun, you were about to have the funniest night of your life.

“Been a while, isn’t it?”

The last thing you expect to find in the morning is Haechan’s face looking down at you with a teasing smirk while you rest too close to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you say, sitting up in the blink of an eye, trying to rub the sleep off your face and scoot away from him.

Haechan scoffs under his breath, painting that bitterness with irony, “It’s nice to know you didn’t change.”

You chuckle awkwardly and then jump off the bed.

“No, definitely didn’t change,” he whispers when you run away from his fingers again. He wants to block you in, to stop you from slipping away, but if he couldn’t do it months ago, he doesn’t see how he can do it now. After all, you’ve never been his. This isn’t different from what you used to do in the morning, now he looks at you and can see that nothing changed. You’re up, putting your hair in a ponytail, rushing to the bathroom to wash up, and he knows you won’t even come back into the room, but run downstairs to have breakfast.

You are long gone and he doesn’t even know how and why he lost you. Maybe it’s better like this, maybe all this silence coming from you can give him a reason to hate you and move on.

But moving on from you seems something impossible to do.

From that moment on, you two decide you can go back to at least be friends and hang out in the same group again. It’s not exactly like before, but it’s better than silence and distance.

Or maybe not.

You can’t stand that Haechan doesn’t sit next to you anymore, he’s always on the other side with Wonyoung, and you can’t bet on it, but you fear that his hand is now resting on her thigh and you hate it.

You don’t show it, not with words, but your body is a neon sign flashing that you don’t want to be there, especially when everyone leaves to take on the dance floor and you’re left with your thoughts.

“Why are you always alone?” Mark asks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Minjeong, but I can still see you’re beautiful and hot, why are you the only single one?”

“The only one?” That’s the only thing your brain registers, making you stare at him with eyes too wide to make it pass like a normal reaction.

“Well, it seems that even Hyuck found someone that can stand his annoying ass,” he jokes, pointing at him and Wonyoung.

“Oh, I didn’t get they were official,” you whisper, your lips quiver, making it look like a smile but it’s pure sadness.

“So it seems, he’s quite private over this.”

You hum and feel your heart break into million pieces again. It shouldn’t hit you so hard and leave you trembling, but it does.

“What about you?”

You shrug, rubbing your arms. “I’m the problem, that’s why I’m single.”

Mark chuckles tenderly, sitting next to you. “So, you’re heartbroken.”

“Maybe.”

“Was it serious?”

“It wasn’t even started.”

“Oh, well, isn’t that better? Maybe it wasn’t even love,” he attempts to lift you up, trying to see it from another perspective. “A lot of times what we tend to consider love is not it. It’s just a lie, something else dressed up as a feeling that is not that deep.”

Yeah, you wish it was it.

“Yeah, surely,” you reply, by now there are no emotions in your voice. “I don’t care, I moved on. I just hate sitting here while looking miserable.”

“Why don’t you go talk to someone? I think that girl at the bar is looking at you?”

“Maybe,” you whisper, not even caring to follow his finger to see the girl that is, in fact, looking at you. “Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom before hitting on people I don’t know,” you joke, smiling at him and letting a laugh follow.

Mark copies you before his hand touches your arm and pats it gently. “It will be fine.”

You nod before pulling your lips into another forced smile. You hope so.

You don’t walk toward the bar, your want to even find someone that can take you home is nowhere to be found, and you sit in a corner to stare at Haechan from afar. He can’t be in love with her, right? But then again, why shouldn’t he?

That torture lasts for a while, and when you think you paid the price for your sin, you grab your things and exit. Sure, you intend to go inside again, Johnny dropped you there, but not now. You need to cool off, and shut your brain. You don’t know how, your method was Haechan but now he is the reason why your mind keeps running a thousand miles per hour.

You’ll find a way, you always did.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Haechan says, leaning next to you against the wall.

A grin curls your lips, and you partly open your eyes to make sure he’s real and not made up by your mind. He is very much real, with his denim jacket that doesn’t keep him any warm and his — now black — hair falling on his face, while his eyes look at you with too much concern. “I tend to self-sabotage a lot,” you whisper, huffing out the air, “you should know it.”

“Yeah, not like this.”

“Hey, I was smoking it!” You scream when he slaps your hand, not hard to hurt you, but hard enough to make the cigarette fall to the ground.

“Since when?”

You roll your eyes, watching the cig on the floor becoming completely useless now that he’s stepping on it, and then you shrug, “I don’t smoke, some guy offered it to me, and I wanted to see if it has any kick.”

“Why?”

“Why do you care? I’m not your problem.” Your eyes are not on him, staring straight into the night that falls upon the road in front of you, but you can feel his stare burning into your skin. Also, he’s close, and you’re not used to having him this close anymore.

He snorts and you glare at him, but that doesn’t faze him. “You said you were doing fine; it doesn’t look like it.”

“I’m just tired, I want to go home, that’s it.”

“You barely talked, danced, or did anything the whole night,” he points out, rubbing his chin and raising a brow.

“Oh, so you don’t only have eyes for your girlfriend,” you spit out before you can realize it.

“Girlfriend?” He tilts his head, and his lips twitch into a barely visible smirk.

“Yeah, the fake blonde.”

Haechan laughs, “Jealous, babe?”

“No. And don’t call me babe. I’m not your problem and I’m not your babe.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says resolutely.

“Oh, well, ‘cause she’s all over your dick so it looked like.”

Another laugh rolls from his lips, this time louder and without a nervous grin hidden behind. “You are jealous.”

“I’m not,” you retort, frowning.

“You were the one all over my dick, and you decided to stop that.”

“I wasn’t like that. I was on your dick, having the best orgasms of my life, but I never humiliated myself in front of you doing silly voices, calling you Haechannieee, or touching you as if you were about to be kidnapped by the aliens and I wouldn’t have had the chance to see you ever again, or looked at you with those eyes that could — well, you get the picture.”

“Oh, I do. You are so fucking jealous and it’s kinda turning me on, I have to admit,” he teases you with a smug smirk on his face.

“Shut up, asshole,” you smack his arm. “Go back to her.”

“Nah, the aliens are kidnapping me, I guess she’ll have to spend the rest of the night alone.”

You glare at him, eyes dropping on your intertwined arms in disbelief when he links them and starts walking away from there.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” he urges, pushing you with more force.

“What are you doing?” You ask, gesturing nervously with your hands and looking back at the club that was disappearing behind you.

“Taking you to our favourite hamburger place, I could eat you right now for how starved I am.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” you wink shamelessly.

“Not like that,” he says. “I’m not sure you deserve it after the way you behaved.”

You huff but follow him, keeping up with his fast steps, until you reach his car and jump inside. It’s been a while since you’ve been there, and when you stop and think about what happened in the backseats your body heats up, but you try not to think about that, and instead turn on the heater and the music how you like. Haechan only laughs lowly, and you know he doesn’t mind, after all these months he knows you can pass as bossy sometimes, and like things in a certain way, so he lets you.

“I told you I’m sorry and you said it was fine,” you retort, not letting his remark of before go unnoticed.

“You just don’t read me, do you? Like, fuck, you are hard to read but I’m an open book and you truly think that shit didn’t hurt?”

“I think it hurt you that’s why I felt like shit, and that’s why with each passing day I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. I get scared when things go well, and it’s not right, it’s not healthy, and I know I hurt you, but I’m sorry, I truly am. You can ask Johnny, he knows it.”

“Yeah, I know he knows.”

“You know he knows?” You scream. It is always Johnny’s fault.

“I know he knows,” he replies with too much calm for your liking. “He had to spill something when I thought you hated me, and I couldn’t sleep thinking about what I could’ve done wrong. He told me you didn’t hate me, that you are dumb and don’t know how to deal with anything in your life that doesn’t follow exactly the path you traced, and I thought ‘oh yeah, seems fitting of her, not surprised’ and moved on… well, tried to.”

“Oh,” you gasp.

“Oh?” He snorts, shaking his head. “All you can say?”

“Do you want me to spend the whole ride saying I’m an asshole?”

Haechan laughs, “It would be entertaining but I will save you from humiliation.”

“Thanks,” you utter, looking out of the window and grinning. This is wild, all over the place, and smells like the calm before the storm, but you like it because you’re back with him by your side.

When you arrive at what used to be your place, you sit at your table while he orders your usual. For him, a double cheeseburger and for you, the big fries’ portion with a sauce that only that place makes — that you would’ve shared with him but only if he begged well enough.

“I missed this,” he whispers after a few minutes when you’re both halfway through your order.

“The burger? Yeah, I missed this sauce, God, I will find someone that sells this.”

“I missed this, dumbass,�� he says, and you feel your heart in your throat when your eyes meet, and he has that glint that you love so much. It’s like a light shining through, and some softness that only shows up in certain moments, you still don’t know what causes it, but you love it.

“Oh, I… I missed this too,” you mumble, diverting the gaze and cleaning your mouth with the napkin to keep yourself busy.

“Wow, wow, wow, wait, you? Getting a tiny, little, small, fainty, invisible bit sentimental?”

“Stupid! You make me look like a heartless bitch.”

Haechan raises his brows and cocks his head to the side.

“Don’t look at me with that face. You know I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I broke my rules for you!” You confess in the heat of the moment, raising your voice, the last words coming out in a squeak.

Oh, shit.

Haechan is confused and you don’t know how to save yourself.

“Rules?” He asks with a frown as he stops midway with his hamburger in hand.

“It’s nothing,” you shrug, grabbing the cola and bringing it to your lips.

He swallows, shaking his head to try to understand if he got it right. “You had rules?”

“I didn’t.” You try to focus on the fries now, but even the window looks tempting, it’s near and you could easily escape from there and ghost him agai—

“So, maybe you are not a cold, heartless, emotionless, impenetrable, untouchable, person after all?”

You sigh, rubbing your neck, and giving up the escape plan. Like the old times, you can give him what he wants without actually giving him what he wants, right? Just a small peek into yourself and then he’s out. “I let you sleep in my bed, only three people had the honour, Johnny, unfortunately my ex, and you.”

Haechan’s lips curl up and his nose twitches. “You are the sweetest person for breaking your rule.”

“That’s not a rule,” you lie but this time he falls for it.

“Then what were the rules?”

“Just eat, and then let’s go home. You’re so curious for no reason.”

“Yeah, you shared too much tonight, would never want to stress you,” he jokes before stealing one of your fries and send you a flying kiss.

“Thanks for the food,” you say when you both reach the door of your apartment. He usually wouldn’t come out of the car to walk you to the door of the complex, and even less he would reach the apartment door. But you didn’t stop him when he followed you in the elevator, you didn’t even flinch, almost as if that was how it was supposed to be.

“Nothing,” he smiles. “It was fun, talking and you know, just us, like the old times.”

You chuckle tenderly, nodding while trying to find the courage to ask one more thing, “Want to come in?”

“I don’t have a toothbrush at your place,” he laughs, reminding you that in the heat of the rush, you never went back to pick up all your things at his place.

“I should have a new one in the cabinet.”

Things go back to normal after that. You’re not sure it’s healthy, considering you didn’t confess your feelings, aren’t sure he feels the same, he had to be honest with Wonyoung without making any names because you two still want this to be private, and the only confrontations you had on your detachment were those two talks. But it’s fine.

The good sex is back. Haechan is back. You are back. The tension in the air is gone and you can enjoy the nights out without Mark worrying about you looking more dead than alive. And Johnny thinks you finally let loose.

But you didn’t. Some fears still linger inside of you and sometimes are stronger than others times.

“Fuck,” you mumble, “do you really have to push me against the metal bar?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Haechan laughs, pulling away from the kiss.

“Don’t laugh! This furniture is a menace to society, you need to find something else to put in your entrance,” you say, rubbing your back.

“If you weren’t horny like a bunny and waited at least to the couch to jump on me, I wouldn’t push you against it,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and starting to walk into the leaving room.

“I can’t stand you,” you whisper through the kiss, struggling to get him out of his clothes, but after a while, almost everything is scattered on the floor of his living room and you two are rushing to his bedroom.

“Is it softer for my princess?” He teases when he pushes you down on the mattress and hovers over you.

You roll your eyes but still hum. “I have the back of an 80-year-old, you need to respect that.”

“Doesn’t look like it when I fuck you all night,” he laughs.

“Should we test it?” You’re done playing around. After a dinner out, and an hour driving around town, because you wanted to see the city lights, you needed him. The flirts were unbearable and also it had been the longest week of your life.

And Haechan doesn’t make you repeat it twice, his hands reach your panties and slip between your legs, meeting the wetness that’s collected there. He doesn’t even bother to pull your underwear down, he pushes two fingers into your welcoming warm entrance and starts pumping in and out right away.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, staring in awe between your legs, “you take me so fucking well. Missed my fingers? That’s why you sent those photos the other day, ‘cause yours aren’t enough anymore and you were hoping I would’ve rushed here to fuck you.”

You curse, “Don’t act as if you didn’t start it.”

He scoffs, “It was just a hand pic, needed to know your opinion about the new watch and rings.”

“And the thighs picture?” You try to sound menacing, but his fingers are making your voice tremble, and picturing those images in your mind doesn’t help you either.

“Liked the new grey shorts? They’re pretty, right?”

“Fuck off, Haechan,” you gasp, and he laughs deeply.

“It’s so easy to mess with you,” he coos, leaning in to leave a peck on your lips. “Was the jacking off video enough to make it up for the teasing?”

“No,” you cry out. He couldn’t play with you like that, sending you a video of him fucking his fist while he moaned and whimpered. You had spent the past six days replaying it, waiting for this moment to come, and even if he was so hot even through the camera, you needed to feel him inside, outside, everywhere.

“Is this enough?”

“Yes,” you moan, opening your eyes to meet his. “Just — fuck — go faster, please.”

His lips curl upward while his two fingers start moving at a faster speed, you almost come on the spot when he presses a hand on top of your stomach and moves his thumb in circles on your clit. Your whimpered ‘too much’ gets shut down when his lips fall on yours and start kissing you. You feel lightweight, entire body reacting to his touches and kisses, playing you like a violin. His mouth is delicate and addictive and you find yourself thinking nobody ever kissed you like that. You can’t put a name on whatever ‘that’ is, but you love it.

“Why are you kissing me like that?”

“Like what?” He whispers, huffing air against your wet lips and staring straight into your eyes.

Like you mean it.

“Nothing, just —” your lips meet his again while your fingers tangle in his hair and his free hand runs on your smaller back, pushing you flat against him. “Fuck.” You feel his digits deeper and your brain starts spinning faster while your boobs rise fast trapped in the lingerie that is still on your body.

“Hyuck,” you cry out, reaching his wrist to slow his movement since you feel too sensitive.

“I’m not stopping, babe. You’ve been thinking about this for days.”

“I — I know but —”

He shushes you again with kisses while he moves your hips so he can hit exactly where he wants, making you scream out when his fingertips start slamming quickly against your sweet spot. You are breathless and you feel your stomach tighten while your legs spread to give him space to give you everything.

“Come for me, come on,” he encourages, pressing delicate kisses on your rising chest and whispering praises.

Your scream pierces the bedroom of his apartment when one twist of his wrist makes your high explode. Your nails dig deep into his arm in response as the sensations feel overwhelming when he doesn’t stop right away, making sure he’s getting every last drop out of you.

“Hyu-hyuck, enough — enough, please,” you snarl, hips bucking up in erratic motions that make him smirk proudly.

“I have a surprise for you,” he says before licking his fingers clean after he pulled out of you reluctantly. He loved making you come with his fingers only, watching them move past your pussy, while your cum coated them and dripped down his wrist and your ass, he loved how he could be all over you.

You don’t reply but you feel it’s something to be afraid of since he’s looking at you with a devilish grin on his face.

“Wanna see it?” He smirks, jumping off the bed and shoving his boxers down, finally giving you a sight of his hard throbbing dick.

You hum lowly in reply, forcing your eyes up from between his thighs and following him with your gaze as he walks to the closet and roams through something before he comes back to you with one hand behind his back.

“You’re scaring me,” you breathe out.

“I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Your mouth opens in surprise when he pulls out a small wand vibrator. It’s not the first time you use a toy, though you never had a vibrator of that kind, you’re just worried about what he wants to do with that.

“You won’t edge me, right?”

“Why not?” He asks, starting to jerk his hard cock, collecting pre-cum and making it fall on your lower stomach. “You look so pretty when no coherent words come out of your mouth and your eyes are empty… well, filled with lust and me, but empty of anything else.”

You groan, about to lift your torso but he pushes you back right away. “Don’t move,” he orders sternly, caressing your inner thigh as he slowly drags your panties down, leaving you bare, and then pulls you closer. His cock brushes over your pussy, but that’s not where you need him.

Haechan laughs, seeing the desperation in your eyes, finding it funny you’re truly thinking he won’t fuck you. “Honey, I need this pussy just as much as you need my cock, I won’t disappoint you,” he groans and then drives his hips back to align himself to your gaping entrance.

“Why do you always make me wait,” you cry out.

“Because it wouldn’t be funny otherwise,” he clicks his tongue, wrapping a hand on the base of his dick and then smearing your wetness everywhere on your pussy, but he doesn’t slip in. “Should we try this new toy before?”

You huff loudly, rolling your head back and the laugh that resonates through his ribcage makes you want to slap him but you’re left breathless once again when the vibrator starts buzzing right against your clit.

“Shit,” you curse, fingers gripping the sheets tightly and toes curling. “Haechan.”

“Yeah, that’s my name,” he taunts, playing with the different speeds and you know that’s not the first time he had the toy in hand, he doesn’t need to try it, he just wants to drive you insane, keeping you on the edge as the rhythm keeps changing and the fat tip of his cock is still pressing halfway into your cunt.

“Please,” you beg, opening your closed eyes and struggling to even breathe out that single word as he keeps messing with you.

“Please, what?” He leans down, he’s so close your noses almost touch and his breath hits your lips. “Use your words, babe.”

You inhale deeply, breathe breaking in the middle when he goes back to the higher frequency and you come on the spot, stilling as the rushes of pleasure invade your body and put a proud smirk on his face.

“Was that what you wanted?” He questions, kindly lowering the vibrations and pushing just a bit more of his tip into you.

“No,” you cry out, “want you.”

He quirks a brow, caressing your cheeks gently and kissing your lips. “Will you ask nicely?” He says, but when you only part your lips to let out sinful sounds and barely shake your head, he snaps. “I’m sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear,” he fakes a sweet tone before he growls and slaps your clit, “ask nicely.”

You gasp, feeling sparks rush through you when the spank hits. “Please, Haechan, please fuck me. I — I need you to fuck me. I’ve been — shit — thinking about you all week, wanted to — to feel your body and — nggh — your touch, please.” You feel on the verge of tears as the vibrator keeps going on your clit and the man between your legs is barely inside you.

But maybe that’s enough for him, maybe you did great and he will give you what you want.

“How much do you need me?”

Or maybe not.

“So much, so, so, so much. I dreamed of you, day and night, mhh,” you swallow a moan, fighting against another orgasm. “Fuck me ‘til I forget my name, please?”

Haechan moans, bottoming into you in a second, finally giving you what you deserve.

“Oh, God,” you gasp out when he fills you up, feeling overflowing with emotions. “Please, fuck me,” you don’t waste time begging again. You need him to move, to send you into the spiral of emptiness and fullness only he can push you into.

“I leave you starving for a week or less and you go completely crazy,” he mocks, picking up the rhythm he knows you love while he keeps the toy in place. “My greedy baby, aren’t you?”

You’re deep down that spiral because that sweet, condescending tone and the possessive pronoun don’t make you mad but instead, they make your heart jump to your throat and your heat clench around him.

He smirks when you don’t reply and angles your hips better so he can reach where he has you trembling.

“You’re making a mess, fuck,” he groans, drifting his gaze from your face to look between your legs. “You love this toy. Picked a nice gift, haven’t I?”

The teasing, bragging tone of his voice would make you talk back to him but you can’t say much. The intermitted buzzing of the toy and the never-ending pounding of his dick are driving you wild. Your head is rolled back and you don’t even care to shut down your moans, fuck the neighbours, after you two heard them fuck for three hours straight last week this was fair payback.

“Hyuck,” you cry louder when he changes the rhythm again and this time the vibration builds up slowly before crashing down, kinda like waves. “You’ll — fuck — too good.”

“I’ll what, babe?” He grins. “Make you come again? Drive you insane?”

You nod, jaw slack because you feel like you can’t breathe in enough air. And when the nth orgasm breaks through, tears erupt down your face. Haechan’s gentle enough to pull the toy away, probably not cause it’s a genuine move of heart but only because he’s too lost in your blissed face.

“Fuck,” he curses, shakily moving his fingers to caress your wet cheeks. The last time he saw you cry wasn’t a great view, and it was because of an asshole, but this time he is the reason for those tears, and they look so beautiful on your pretty, overwhelmed face. He thinks he loves when you get so vulnerable with him, he doesn’t even care that you only get like this during sex, he still has that power over you, and knowing you, this is already the biggest sign of trust you can gift him. “You’re so pretty, you know?”

A dumb smile paints on your face as your hands reach for him to pull him closer. You feel like your brain is melting and your bones are ashes but you want to feel that skin-on-skin contact more. You want him all over you, deeper into you, seeping into the smallest creases of you so that you can’t wash him away for days.

Haechan moans your name in a heated kiss when you clench around him. “Taking me so fucking well, that’s my good girl,” he praises, pushing back again on your lips. “My good girl.”

“Yours,” you whimper through moans and sobs.

“Yeah, mine,” he whispers back, changing the angle of his thrust so he can hit your sweet spot better and exactly how you like. But right now is just too much for you, between your clit being endlessly stimulated, his cock hitting deep into you and his lips and hands on your body, you’re sure you can’t drag this longer.

“Don’t you fucking dare pull away, hands off,” he scolds, swatting your hand away when you try to get between him and the vibrator.

“It’s too much,” you whimper, “I can’t anymore.”

“Yes, you can, babe. Just one more,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you softly to calm you down. “Can you take one more for me?” He still checks, slowing his movements and slowing down the speed of the wand.

You hum, breathing out a choked positive answer and he smiles happily, picking up his ministrations inside of you and on your lips. “Good girl,” he praises, “taking it all, taking me so well. I —” he stops, panic flicking behind his eyes but yours are closed and you’re too lost to feel the same rush of fear into you. “I’m so proud of you.”

Your heart jumps in your chest, and you feel like you could melt. Praises have never done anything to you until they started coming out of his mouth. They didn’t feel like a mock anymore, or like a nicety said just to be cliché and repeat some erotica-porn-type catchphrase. You know he means it.

Your eyes snap open when he starts fucking you faster, turning the vibration at that high setting and never changing it until you would’ve been done. Curse spill from your lips, but Haechan catches them all inside his mouth. He doesn’t do it to keep you silent, Mark’s not home anyway, he does it for another reason. Almost as if he’s addicted to your lips, or you.

“Hyuck,” you breathe out.

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos before sticking his face in the crook of your neck to smear wet pecks on your skin. “Come with me, okay?”

You hum, shaking your head in quick motions and trapping your lower lip in your teeth because you know your moans would be screams by now, and before the neighbours might mislead this beautiful sex for a crime scene, you try to keep it under control. Haechan is not as careful as you, his velvety, deep moans slip freely and you can’t blame him, your pussy must be gripping him tighter than ever before and be just as wet, the lewd wet sounds are a clear indication of how turned on you are.

And something between all that makes you both reach your climax, panting and squirming against each other before you go slack on the mattress and he collapses on top of you, thoughtful enough to turn off the toy and threw it at the side of the bed.

You feel lost in a haze when you turn around and snuggle closer to him, breathing in his scent and running your fingers on his chest. You look up and see him smiling lazily at you, and you reciprocate.

“You amaze me sometimes,” he whispers mindlessly, letting his hand run on your back, reaching your hair to brush some strands, following their natural pattern.

You chuckle, “For taking your cock so well?”

He snorts, rolling his eyes and leaning closer to you; the temptation to kiss you is strong, and weirdly enough you still haven’t moved back, but he knows he can’t risk it. “For taking everything I give you so well.”

“Fair.”

You stay there for a while more, waiting for your bodies to recharge a bit but the more he holds you in his arms the more you feel sleep take over you. But you both know you can’t sleep in those conditions, so Haechan breaks the magic.

“Should we order something to eat and in the meanwhile take a bath?”

You stretch, and hum. “If you carry me to the bathroom.”

Once he has ordered food and you’re both sitting in the bathtub, you let the warmth of the water wrap around you. It feels nice after the exhausting sex, and you love the scent of Haechan’s body wash, you love feeling his arms around you and his hands on you.

There’s nothing sexual about this, he’s delicately cleaning you with the sponge while you talk about stupid things and make jokes.

It’s warm. And safe. And special.

It’s different.

From anything else that ever happened before with anybody else, and even with him. And you think you might get used to this.

To a home, not a house.

To a place to come back to that’s full of life and love.

To him, and his laugh, and his voice, and his clothes scattered around, and his screams when he loses against his friends.

You truly believe you could get used to this.

But all the fears you have to face still appear like an insurmountable wall that menaces crashing on you.

Haechan has no intention of letting it slide this time. When he can’t reach you through call, when you still don’t answer his texts after five days, he knows he won’t write pathetic, heartbroken messages to you to let you go again.

He’s mad, furious, even, and once again, he can’t understand you.

You were back together, better than before, closer than before, and now, you’re gone without a word another time.

He doesn’t bother to text you to warn you, he’s pretty sure if you knew he was coming, you would’ve escaped to the other side of the world, leaving no traces behind. So he’s standing at your door, ringing the bell with no patience, and huffing loudly.

When the door opens and you murmur a curse after blabbering Johnny’s name because you were expecting to find him, your eyes widen.

“Haechan?” You whisper, throat dry and hand shaking on the knob.

He doesn’t say anything, he pushes you to the side and enters the place.

“Haechan, I can —” you start, but his glare stops you.

“Why do you always ruin everything good?” His voice is shaking and so are his lips, quivering even now that he’s not talking anymore.

And you’re frozen. You’re not ready for this. You didn’t prepare a speech before, you don’t have an explanation about your personality and you two. You spent the last five days working and worrying because things went wrong once again because you let him too close and now he is there, waiting for an answer you were never able to give yourself.

“I said,” he starts, “why do you ruin everything good?”

“I don’t…”

Haechan groans loudly, throwing his head back and turning around because he can’t stand your face, your tears rolling down your cheeks as if you’re the victim in this, and probably partially you are, but why can’t you let him in? Why can’t you explain it to him? Whatever is bothering you and making you stab him repeatedly. He just wants to know why before he lets you go, but it seems you don’t even know how to do that.

“You ran away from us another time and you can’t give me an explanation?”

“I’m scared, okay? What’s between us is… is not going where I planned it to go and it’s becoming so much. I just don’t know what to do,” you try to explain, trying to keep your composure and don’t shake like a leaf.

Haechan scoffs in disbelief, but the truth is that he’s feeling an abnormal amount of pain just looking into your eyes. “What’s there to know? I thought we were fine. I… I came back to you as if nothing happened, as if you didn’t leave me without a word. I hurt an innocent person all because I wanted to be with you, in any way, I don’t care. I didn’t even want apologies or anything, I just wanted you and I thought we were doing fine but to you, fine is never enough.”

“It was enough, it is. I — I think it’s too much. I don’t know how to deal with this. With you,” you reason, and it’s hard to look into his eyes when you can see all the pain you’re causing.

“I thought…” he stops, backtracking on his own words because none of this makes sense. You never show signs of discomfort when you’re together, you used to bicker much more at the start than now, so your words sound crazy to his ears. “Why can’t you tell me this when I do things that are too much for you?”

“Because they aren’t too much when they happen. I like what we have.”

“Then why do you run away?” He can’t keep his voice low, and those words come out in a scream full of bitter incredulity.

You break into a cry, but you immediately stop yourself, forcing the tears back in your eyes and the sobs down your throat. Once again you can’t give him an answer, just a useless apology. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, keeping eye contact no matter how much it hurts because you need him to know you’re being honest, you’re not lying or putting up walls. It’s just hard to tear down the ones you already have built around yourself.

“No, you’re not,” he retorts, voice lower. “It happened twice, Jesus Christ, twice. You can go back to your ex, the one who treated you like shit, but you can’t at least warn me when you need some time alone.”

You shake your head, pressing your lips flat to hold in the cries. “I don’t need some time alone. I’m confused and overwhelmed.”

“By what?” Haechan urges again, nervously moving in small steps on the spot, feeling like he could explode at any minute.

“Everything. All of this is new to me and I… I’m trying to be a better person. I’m trying not to hurt the ones that I love, and don’t fuck everything up, but I can’t. Everything I touch becomes sick and dies and… and I don’t know what to do.”

Haechan is confused. He thought that what you had had never been better than this, so why is it so different for you? Why are your points of view so far from one another and distorted? Maybe that is the problem, after all, you are too different from each other, not compatible, and it will never work. “But I don’t get you, I’ve tried, I swear, I did, but it’s like — it’s like there’s a wall and I can’t get past it.”

You groan, throwing your head back, but you know that if it’s difficult for you to explain it must be ten times harder for him to understand. “It’s hard for me.”

“But why? I thought I was better than your ex, why are you pushing me away?” He knows he’s not perfect, but he’s never done anything to hurt you, moreover, he always tried everything to protect you and make you feel good, and that went beyond sex. He thought it was clear, but apparently, it was all to waste.

You’re short of words, struggling to come up with an answer. “Because, because, fuck, I’ve never felt like this before. You fucked me up in a way no one else ever did. It’s pathetic the way you make me weak. The way… the way my walls come crashing down when I’m with you.”

“Oh, really?” It’s a scoff, full of sarcasm, mockery and resentment and it’s even followed by a click of the tongue.

Your voice falters as tears break free from your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe you. Of course, he can’t know how much you showed of yourself, parts of you nobody else has ever seen. “They do. You simply don’t pry in, you don’t push me to my limits to make me let you in but the door for you is wide open. I feel… I’m vulnerable.” You stop, taking a deep breath. “When I’m with you, I’m vulnerable.”

Haechan shakes his head, thinking you can’t be serious. The only time you have been vulnerable was because of your ex, and the other times you opened up, well, he’s not so sure you told him anything true. “And yet I still don’t get you, and I’m starting to think I’ll never will because… you act like a child running away when nothing happens. What do you do when things go wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you cry, sliding down on the floor, covering your face with your closed fist. You don’t let things in your life go wrong, because they already went wrong years ago and you can’t even risk for a tragedy to happen again. That’s why you need rules, order, and peace. “I’ve never had something like, something like… this,” you confess, looking at him. “I’ve never had someone like you.” Haechan. The opposite of what you needed until now to survive. There were no rules with him, no order and no peace, but strangely enough, all his opposites didn’t bring you war. Yet, that doesn’t calm you, something about all of this feels like a bomb to you and he still doesn’t understand you.

The heavy sigh that comes from his lips makes you look away. “So, you run when things are good? Will you keep leaving me? Do I have to come running to you, looking for you, not knowing if you want me or if I should leave you space?”

“I don’t know.”

Haechan almost yells. “Stop saying that, it’s infuriating.”

“But I truly have no idea. I just told you. I could tell you about me, but why would you want to listen?”

“Because I love you?” He screams, jaw dropping as he realizes what he said. “Fuck, there, I said it, and I scared you away once and for all, but honestly, I can’t keep doing this any longer. I love you. I don’t know why but I guess I am dumb and always fall for the people I can’t have. But I do. And I would love to sit here and listen to you because, guess what, I want this to work out. Because that’s what normal people do. They talk and they listen. They don’t run away.”

“You — you love me?”

Haechan takes a deep breath, and a tear rolls down his eyes as he hums, nodding. “And you don’t have to say anything, I don’t care if you don’t love me back, but that’s why I hate when you act like this because you don’t let good things come at you in life, I might not be your happy event but…”

“But?”

“Grow up.”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat and more tears flood your face, blurring your view. Those words feel like a gunshot straight to your heart and you can’t believe you’re hearing them from him. You know that wasn’t his initial thought, but he doesn’t backtrack.

“Grow up because you need to learn how to deal with this shit, whatever it is, whatever is making you act like this. Excuses and apologies are not enough. You might not hurt people on purpose, but you still do and I…”

“No, please,” you scream when Haechan starts walking to the door swiftly, opening it before you can even make him out. “Don’t leave,” you cry, struggling to stand on your knees. “Don’t leave me, too.”

He stops and turns around gulping but shaking his head.

“I need to be alone,” his voice is broken and he’s clearly holding back tears, and you’d like to run in his arms and hug him, but, once again, the rational part of you is holding you back, so you let him go, like you let go every other person of your life, with the difference you didn’t care about them as you care about him.

“I can’t keep defending you,” Johnny confesses while he stares at your crying face. You called him sobbing, muttering a few words, but he didn’t need more to come rushing to you. He didn’t even need you to explain, he knew. Haechan had this over-dramatic way of reacting, posting sad Instagram stories with depressing and heart-wrenching songs, and everything led back to you. Also, he had told him he ‘broke’ everything with Wonyoung and Johnny saw how you two were close once again. So, you must’ve fucked it up once again and that was why you two were here.

“You don’t have to,” you weep, hiding your face in his chest, and wrapping your arms around his broad back, deeply hoping he would crash you with his arms and you would stop suffering for all your poor decisions.

“You can’t keep sabotaging yourself,” he says, caressing your scalp in circular motions, knowing that always makes you calm down. “I can’t keep seeing you like this.”

“I was never like this.”

Johnny sighs, “You might not cry but if you think that I don’t know your fucked up coping mechanism, you’re wrong. And we know well it’s not only about love. Everything good that happens in your life you have to turn into a curse. Why?”

“I don’t know.” You know it well, and weirdly it isn’t even in your power.

“You had an offer of a job you loved and you lost it all because you thought you were undeserving and played humble, and let’s not talk about the days before the interview you spent feeling sick because you thought you weren’t good enough for it.”

A broken sniffle rolls from your lips.

“Do we have to go back to the school years?”

“No, thanks.” You don’t need a reminder, the years of tears and stress that you doubled for the standards you set for yourself are still weighing on you, so you don’t want to go back there mentally.

“And love… why do you think you don’t deserve love?”

“I don’t think I don’t deserve it. I never felt something so strong and I’m afraid. What if… what if we’re both not ready to settle down and be serious with this? What if it will break my heart?”

Johnny chuckles, “And what if he’s the love of your life?”

“Oh,” you whisper, your heart speeding up just thinking about it. The long-term scared you, that was why you ran away. You love how you feel good when you’re with him, but you’re terrified it won’t last and once the spell expires you will be left in the ashes.

“The only certain things in life are taxes, if you’re not a rich asshole, and death, but everything else? It’s a shot in the dark. Don’t you think some risks are worth taking?”

“But it will hurt.”

“And isn’t it hurting already?”

“Oh.”

Johnny smiles, caressing your cheek. “Why are you so worried about the future? You can’t make it perfect. You can’t have control over everything, little bird.”

“Don’t call me little bird,�� you say, emitting a sound mixed with a sniffle and a chuckle.

“You are. And you still didn’t learn how to fly. But if you don’t fly, how will you live?”

You sigh, rubbing your hands on your face before biting your nails nervously.

“Listen,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and gently whispering your name to make you look at him. “I know why you want to have control so badly. I know why you think that if you plan it all before, think about all the things that could go wrong, and torture yourself into thinking that you can have power over the wilderness of the world and destiny, nothing else will go wrong, but it’s not like this. We both know it.”

You sob louder, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, eyes dropping to the floor as guilt plunges your heart again. “I could’ve saved him.”

“No, you couldn’t have. Some things are just not in our power. I blamed myself too, so many times. But I swore to him I would’ve protected you over anything, and if that anything is yourself and your fears, I will protect you from you.”

You wish you could feel better at his words, but they only make more tears stream down your face. “If I didn’t call him, if I… if I had someone to come home with this wou—”

“It would’ve happened,” Johnny stops you. “You’re not that powerful, little bird. I’m sorry,” he chuckles, wiping your tears away. “None of us is. And it’s all about luck, and just occasionally about merits. So, if life sent Haechan to you, don’t make him slip away.”

“But every time I followed my instinct things went terribly, I feel like I carry so much bad luck around me sometimes.”

Johnny only hugs you for a while, caressing your back and lulling you in his arms. “When you were a kid and let the sea carry you too far away?”

“My father almost died.”

“But he didn’t.”

“Yes, but then… you know what happened.”

“And it wasn’t your fault. After that you never let emotions carry you, you never let someone deep into you because you think everyone could betray you, and unless you have everything written down you don’t do a thing. You hide it quite well, you almost seem normal from the outside.”

You laugh lightly and hug him tighter. You don’t feel better, but maybe he’s right, maybe this is your chance to change your life and stop living in fear.

“So, what do I do?”

“You let Haechan in, maybe explain something to him so he puts his mind at ease because I think that both Adele and Taylor Swift’s discographies are about to end, he seemed rather depressed in his stories.”

“And if it goes wrong?”

“At least you tried.”

A heavy sigh rolls from your lips as you stare blankly at the floor, nervously biting the inside of your cheeks and, once again, trying to think faster than life, maybe if you change your plans, it would count as if you still made them, right? Or maybe this time there is no plan, and it’s right like this.

“I only promised him one thing, and I’m not going to take my words back, little bird. He wanted you to live, to be free, and to be loved. On the way to you, he called me, ranting furiously about how he would’ve killed your stupid boyfriend if he saw him somewhere because nobody could hurt you. He only wanted someone that was right for you. I’m sure he would love Haechan, and who knows, maybe Hyuck is truly sent from above.”

When your closed fist crashes against Haechan’s front door to knock on it you feel like you could pass out. You keep torturing the inside of your cheeks, chewing the flesh nervously, while your right foot nervously bounces against the cold floor.

You slightly jump back when the door opens and your eyes meet with his.

“Who’s — Oh, it’s you,” he whispers and he almost sounds disappointed, you wouldn’t bet on it, but his eyes are not looking at you like they usually would and that makes you regret even more that you came.

“Can we talk?” Your voice is weak and hardly comes out, vocal cords shaking like your body. “No, we need to talk. Please,” you add to don’t sound too rude, it’s the last thing you can be, given the position you’re in.

Haechan sighs, rubbing his face and then moving to the side to let you in. The house is dark, the only light comes from outside, and dead quiet.

“Why are you here?” He questions, crossing his arms and watching as you’re about to sit on the sofa. You stop halfway and gulp, standing up again and clinging to your purse. “You can sit.”

You do, fixing your clothes and looking down at the floor.

“So? I don’t have all day,” he urges and the coldness of his voice is the tenth bad sign that’s screaming you shouldn’t do this.

“About us.”

Haechan chuckles, it’s a bitter laugh, trapped in the back of his throat while his eyes roll to the sky and his head shakes. “Us? Now you decided there’s an us?”

You bite your lower lip and clench your fists. “Please, just let me explain.”

“Sure, can’t wait to hear some other bullshit you’ll have to tell me before disappearing forever,” he says, sitting in front of you, and the distance feels unbearable. You had never seen him this cold, not even when you went back to the coastal town this winter.

“Listen, I’m here to talk like adults, okay? Can we please stop being childish and put the pride away for just an hour? Then I’ll leave if you want to.”

He hums, he’d love to add that he doesn’t want you to leave, but he keeps his mouth shut and waits for you to talk.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “For everything I did to you. Trying not to hurt myself I only hurt you and I didn’t want to.”

He babbles something under his breath, shaking his head, he can’t even be mad at you for long and he hates it.

“And I don’t want you to forgive me, but I think I owe you my honesty, and a bit more of me, you know…”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I do, because you let me… you let me in. You talked about your family, about your struggles, how you moved here on your own and I said a few things and I even lied.”

Haechan’s face cannot be read, probably a fragment of stupor crosses it or maybe disappointment, but then he scoffs. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I didn’t — I didn’t think we would ever get here,” you confess. “You were supposed to be just sex, Haechan. To be honest, I didn’t even want you to be that. Johnny dragged me to that bar and here we are.”

He gulps, moving his eyes up and down your figure, and then takes a deep breath. “We don’t have to be anything, I just wish you wouldn’t cut me off like this all the time because it hurts. I care about you and the idea of hurting you, even involuntarily, kills me. It’s pathetic, I know, but…” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “but it’s the truth.”

Your heart jumps and you can’t believe his words. So is this how it feels when the person you love the most is about to give you up? “But I do.”

“What?”

“I — I…” you choke up on your words, fighting the tears back. “I want to — I don’t know why it is so hard.” No, you know why, because the last time the words ‘I love you’ slipped from your lips you were bent on a deathbed, beginning your other half to stay alive, to don’t leave you in the madness of the world at fifteen, promising him from then on you were going to listen, to stay in track and never break a rule, but it was all in vain. And now confessing that something as strong as love ties you to someone that wasn’t in your life since forever makes you shit yourself.

“You don’t have to fake it if you don’t feel anything. I know I crossed a line, I know what our rules were and I’m aware I broke them so no, I won’t blame you if I lose you,” Haechan says, stopping probably to gather the courage to add the last words, “I know I already did.”

“No, you didn’t,” you say. “Let me talk, please?”

Haechan’s not sure, taking time to consider his options, but then nods, humming lowly. This might be the last time he has you like this, if he didn’t listen to you now, he would’ve regretted it forever, staying up at night thinking about what you had to say.

“Remember when I told you about Johnny and my brother?” Haechan nods, even if he doesn’t get its correlation with you two. “I lied. They never fought; my brother died,” your voice falters as it comes out to give him such a big piece of you. You take a deep breath and then exhale, “It was all my fault.”

“What?” He blurts out, eyes wide and mouth open. “I mean, I’m sorry, God, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that but… I…”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s alright, I would’ve reacted the same way if you pretended your brother was alive and well.”

“It didn’t happen recently, right?” He’s afraid all this time you left, it was because of that, maybe you were going through a loss and he wasn’t by your side.

You shake your head, playing with your fingers. “I was fifteen, and he was only twenty.”

He mentally takes a breath of relief knowing it was in the past, but he doesn’t feel any better, it’s clear it’s still hard for you to talk about it even if seven years went by. “But… unless you didn’t kill him, how can it be your fault?”

“If only I didn’t call him, if only I listened to my parents and never… never dated him or went on that trip, my brother would be here today.”

Haechan tries to talk but you stop him. “But that’s not why I talked to you about this, I mean, I still have to talk to you about this. I hope it can make you understand why… why I’m like this.”

The man in front of you swallows, and you can read it in his eyes he’s not so sure anymore he wants to dive deep into you, but it’s the only way he can at least try to forgive you.

“I know it sounds crazy but, when I was a child, I was reckless and only trusted my instincts. I loved living to the fullest, you know? I always tried new things and nothing really scared me. I was like this even with people, I always saw their good, but sometimes the good never even existed.”

Haechan doesn’t talk, he only looks at you, listening attentively. And that makes you relax a bit, that was one of his thousand virtues, he always listened and emitted this sense of calm.

“I was like this even as a teenager when I didn’t know men are shit since the day they are born.”

“Fair,” he agrees.

“I’m sorry, like, some of you are just terrible and when I was fourteen I fell for the worst one, but I couldn’t see it. I’ve never been a loser, not in a cliché way, but he seemed so cool in my eyes. He was pretty, popular, funny, for the broken humour of fourteen years old me, and he could do so much more than I could and I was in love, not really looking back at it now, and jealous.”

“I guess he was older?”

“He was, he turned seventeen when I turned fifteen and we weren’t together until then, but I was… a child at heart. I didn’t feel ready to try a lot of new things and he always pressured me into them. My parents didn’t like him, but I was headstrong and didn’t listen. Anyway, we dated for a while and everything was fine, until one day he asked me to go camping with his friends. I was so happy, it was my first night out with people I wasn’t super close with and we were under the sky, in my mind it was going to be the most romantic night of my life until it turned into a nightmare. My parents didn’t want me to go, so I had a fight with them and my brother took my defences, saying that I had to make my first experiences and if something happened I could always call home, so they gave up. But I was still mad at them and didn’t want to call them when things went wrong, proving they were right would’ve killed my pride, so I called my brother. I knew he would’ve never said anything to me.”

“Did he… force you?”

You shake your head. “No, but they were doing drugs and mixing it with alcohol and I was afraid, I only knew him and two other girls, but never was in touch with his friends and they were all starting to get too violent, and I didn’t like the jokes, the jokes about me. They started mocking me, for being too naïve, and pure and he didn’t say a word to defend me, he even laughed with them, straight to my face. And then the alcohol made him confess he hated how we still hadn’t fuck because I wasn’t ready, and after that, I snapped. I was terrified he was going to find a way to make it happen somehow that night and I didn’t want to be there. I had nobody to defend me and I couldn’t stay there. So I grabbed my things while fighting with him and ran away, in the middle of the wood, crying and heartbroken…”

“So you called your brother?”

You nod, wiping away the tears. “He came rushing, and he wanted to address them but I just wanted to go home, technically to Johnny’s place, I didn’t want to see my parents and we had this plan we would’ve kept it a secret from them.”

“So you were already friends with Johnny?”

You nod. “We’ve always been, that’s why I tell you that I could never be attracted to him, he has always been like my second older brother, and now he’s the only one I have left.”

“You don’t have to go on…” Haechan says, seeing how much you’re shaking and how weak your voice is.

“No, I do, I need to. I trust you,” you confess, and the beam behind his eyes dims your tension. “We were driving to Johnny’s place, it was late at night and it also started raining. I know it would’ve happened even if he wasn’t mad because we were in the right, he was driving well, but if only I didn’t call him up he would’ve been at home and not in that damn crossroad.” You can’t go on and you lower your head while you try to gather your thoughts and stop your body from shaking. You feel Haechan’s hand reach yours and you hold it tight after the sofa hollows as he sits next to you.

“The last thing I remember is his hand on my thigh while he caressed my hand to calm me down, and the static, deafening sound in my ear of the crush, the pain and his hand slipping away.”

“So, you were there?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “He didn’t die on the spot, he suffered for like a week, he even woke up, barely had time to talk one last time to all of us and then his heart had a failure and they couldn’t save him.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says, contemplating hugging you but it feels out of place, so he only keeps caressing your hand. “And you?”

“Broken leg, broken arm, a minor brain trauma and something else but I’m still here, and he’s not. And why? Because I decided to follow my dumb heart.”

Haechan feels out of place but after what you heard he can’t keep quiet. “I… I think he loved you too much to blame you for something that wasn’t in your power.”

“I know, I swear. I went to therapy, and I know it’s not my fault, I accepted his death and I know he would’ve thrown himself in the flames for me, but I can’t let go of this fear in my everyday life. Not having control drives me crazy and with you, I lost it so soon, it never happened before.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Haechan confesses, he’s still holding your hand because it feels like the only thing he can do. But other than that? He can’t protect you from your fears and he doesn’t know how to give some control into your hands, it’s not in his power either.

“I love you,” you confess, looking into his eyes and he freezes, the hold on your palm loosening. “And that’s the shitties confession ever, and I’m so sorry I just finished trauma dumping you, but I… I can’t keep losing good things in life because I’m afraid of taking risks. I can’t erase you, I’ve tried, but I can’t.”

Haechan’s mouth is wide and he’s not sure if he went completely insane or if those words came out of your mouth for real.

“I can’t move on from you. And I don’t need all the big answers I was searching for to give this a reason, I love you, it’s simple as that.”

“I…” he tries to answer you, but he feels his heart racing and head spinning, you just said you love him, twice.

You stand up and start walking back and forth. “I’ve never been so honest, but I can’t stop thinking of you, dreaming of you, even. And I can’t believe I love being with you so much. God, you were supposed to be just a one-night stand and here we are, you washed over me like a rouge wave and...” you chuckle, eyes glistening as happy tears wet them “... I can’t even care if it made me drown. I love you too much to care about what will happen, to worry about something that might not even happen. But even if it will, even if life will ever tear us away, I want to live in the present, I want to kiss you in front of our friends, I want to hold hands when you pick me up from work, I want to sing with you in the car as we drive to our favorite place, I want to wake up next to you and don’t have to sneak out like a thief. I want to leave my toothbrush at your place, next to yours, right where it belongs.”

You can’t read his expression, your heart dares to say he’s happy, surely shocked and probably thrilled, but your brain is still the annoying douchebag that makes you feel he doesn’t want you back.

“And I know I’m hard to be with but if you want me, if you feel like you can take me for who I am, I promise that I won’t disappear ever again and I will let you in.”

Haechan chuckles and then raises his head to smile at you. “You are the wildest rollercoaster I’ve ever been on, you know?” You hum, smiling sadly. “But I can’t get off.” Your eyes light up at his words and your heart starts beating again as if it has been brought back to life.

“So you don’t hate me?”

He shakes his head, standing up to be face to face. “I don’t think I can.”

Your smile lights up the room, and Haechan leans closer. “So, can I kiss you or are we breaking another rule?”

You chuckle. “We are. I think this is the only one we never broke, we never kissed outside of sex.”

“Oh, so this one has to be special…” he caresses your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, rubbing your skin with his thumb and then leans in, “…to us?”

You smile, gulping before moving closer, leaving only a few millimetres between you. “To us.” When your lips meet it feels like a patch being put on your broken wings. It’s soft, and there’s still a lot of fear in your shaking hands and lips, but it feels like floating in the sky. You know it’s going to be hard for the both of you, he has his skeletons just like you have yours, but this feels right. This feels like the place where you have to be. In his arms, hanging from his lips.

Haechan hits different. Haechan is like a high-speed train and a bullet to the heart. Haechan is like jumping in the void with no parachute on hoping wings will grow from your back to keep you floating. But it’s good and it makes you feel alive, a feeling you’re now sure you had forgotten a long time ago.

And maybe, after all, you have to thank Johnny for this.

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #haechan fluff #lee haechan fluff #haechan angst #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan scenarios

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neowinestainedress · 4 months

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‘CAUSE IT’S YOU | L.DH

TITLE: ‘cause it’s you PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader GENRE: hits different bonus, slice of life, fluff, smut, established relationship, relationship development, christmas, meeting the parents SUMMARY: it’s been 3 years since you met, two since you started dating, but haechan still hits different. or; you and haechan spend your first real christmas together WARNINGS: smut, unprotected s*x (mc is on the pill), vibrat*r, getting caught, exhibitionism, edging, f!nger!ng, overstimulation, squ!rt!ng, dirty talk, praises, female joi, masturbati*n (f&m), voyeurism, n!pple play, the usual switchy dynamics, cheesy-romantic-love making, lots of kisses, l-bombs, aftercare, mentions of minor character death (before i get called a dumb bitch in the asks for not putting this), dealing with a loss and trauma, bi!haechanxbi!reader WC: 22.563k A/N: our favorite emotional support boyfriend is back! This was supposed to be a gift for the 4k followers this summer, but I didn’t finish writing it and I decided to give you tooth-rotting Christmas fluff and smut instead of another summer (on the coaAaAast). I’m excited and scared for this because when I was writing HD I wanted to show more after they got together (but it was too long), and then the story was such a hit (and felt complete anyway) that I wasn’t sure I wanted to write another part (or it was needed). I’m happy I didn’t finish it this summer because when I sat down for that, I feared I was right; it felt plotless, and I felt I was adding nothing to the story. Until I thought of this. I’m proud of how this came out because I feel this still has a valid plot and showcases the changes in their dynamics well. But since this is not supposed to top the original (it can’t) and I see it more as a bonus that’s optional to read, please take this as my 5k followers and Christmas gift for you! If you hated the mc in HD, this one is for you! I hope you can enjoy this, please let me know with reblogs (they help reach more people), comments and asks what you think about it! happy holidays ♡

“Where the hell are my panties?” You mutter under your breath as you look through the messy blankets with no success.

“Babe, please,” Haechan mumbles, trying to push the sheets on his body and don’t freeze with each one of your tugs.

“You know, you’re the reason I can never find my clothes, but you still never help me,” you groan, stopping to stare at him with your arms crossed.

He raises a brow, and then his usual smirk curls his lips. “Three years and I still fuck you that good, you should be grateful.”

You groan loudly before grabbing your pillow and hitting his face, eliciting a loud grunt. “You’re so annoying!”

“Damn, laugh a bit,” he jokes, wrapping his hands around your body and pulling you flat on top of him. You’re face to face, his sleepy golden-brown eyes staring into yours and his lips pouting to leave wet kisses on your face.

“Hyuck,” you complain, trying to pull away, but he flips you over, trapping you against the mattress, and going on with his sweet torture.

“What? You’re not in a rush anymore,” he whispers as his kisses get less messy and move down on your body. “Can’t be lazy with me some more?” He lifts his hand up and you see he’s holding your panties.

You gasp offended and he bursts out laughing. “You traitor! I went insane for five minutes trying to look for them!”

“It’s funny seeing you do that every time.”

You pout. “I hate you.”

But Haechan smiles and leans in to leave a peck on your lips. “I love you, too.”

“Give me them!” You scream, grabbing his hand and stealing your panties. “I wanted to make you breakfast, but no, you had to waste my time.” You push him off of you, and he just rolls to the side without complaining, still smiling as he follows you with his gaze. “Now you’ll have to wait.”

He chuckles, moving to get comfy in the warmth of the bed. “Fine by me, I’ll wait.”

You can’t hide the smile on your face, but you try to don’t show it by looking down, letting your hair cover your face, and pretending to be busy with your clothes.

Haechan gets you now. He knows why you were always in a rush and that you don’t need to be anymore. He knows that now, behind your rush, there’s not the need to be as far away from him as possible but to prepare your favorite breakfast and slump in bed together to eat it. It’s just a habit you two picked. He learned you need habits; small things that keep you grounded, small moments you can always count on, and he doesn’t mind it. Actually, he likes it too, you are the calmness he needs in his rough sea.

“Want me to help?” He asks once you’re done, ready to go in the kitchen.

“No, I want to surprise you today. Stay here, I’ll be back soon,” you reply, smiling and sending him a kiss that he grabs swiftly before bringing it to his lips, making you chuckle.

I’ll be back soon.

It sounds wild in his ears if he thinks that just two years ago, every time you walked out of that door, he feared you weren’t going to come back. It’s even more insane when he stops and thinks you two are making it work. Looking back at your failed relationships, it’s safe to say that you both don’t strike as types to make a story last.

Yet, here you are. On the bed, eating breakfast while you discuss your plans for the day. And then you’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth side by side, playfully fighting to have access first in front of the small sink, and then you’re in the shower, no funny business, just a quick wash before going out. Lastly, in your bedroom, you’re getting dressed to go out, picking each other’s fits, and finishing the last touches.

Everything in your house. The one you two now share.

Moving in felt like a sudden move, and when the moment came, Haechan had been the one who tried to stick to his old habits, too afraid that such a big change was going to scare you away. But Mark and Minjeong got more serious, and Haechan was always at your place anyway (to avoid suffocating so Mark wouldn’t hear every time you fucked). Also, as much as you loved the company of the couple, you two needed time alone, so he moved in five months ago.

But all his worries got flushed away pretty soon. You needed stability and your habits, the small things that made you feel grounded. And since you had come to terms with his feelings for him, moving in only solidified your relationship because you could have all that. There was nothing left of the insecurity of your friends with benefits phase, there was something that was planting its roots to grow strong.

Your place is still a temporary solution before looking for something nicer (not bigger, for now, the only family expansion plans are plants, a cat, and a dog).

But it’s yours. The same house you built so hard, the one you kept secret like an oath, the one he couldn’t even step foot inside, is now his too. There’s his guitar in a corner of the living room, his computer next to yours, and the game console under the TV. His clothes beside yours in the closet, his shoes in the hall right next to yours, and his jacket at the entrance. The lamps you bought together, the plants you picked together, and even a big photo of you two framed above the television; Johnny took it without you noticing, and it quickly became your favorite, so it’s there, to let everyone know who lives there.

And most importantly, there’s Haechan. There’s his laugh, filling your nights and days that used to be empty. There are his failed attempts at cooking. The books he tries to read every night, with no success, while you read yours. Just for him to end up with his head on your lap as your fingers run through his hair and you read yours out loud. There’s him hyping you up as you run on your treadmill, dancing and singing around you because that’s training too. Finally, there’s a beating heart to listen to as you fall asleep between two arms that hold you.

“I can’t believe you don’t have Christmas decorations.” This is the tenth time Haechan makes that comment as you walk around the store with the cart almost full of Christmas stuff, and you can only roll your eyes at it. “I’m sorry, babe, but… why?”

“I had nothing to celebrate,” you reply, stopping to look at the garlands, inspecting which one is better.

“Not even last year?”

“We were at your place, and usually Johnny drags me with his family, he knows I will fall into a vertigo of depression if I’m not distracted during this time,” you reply. It’s not painful to talk about it, but Haechan can hear the subtle shift in your voice and the way your eyes avoid his. He learned how to study your smallest reaction, it was the only way he could get deep into you, even after you started being serious, it wasn’t so easy for you to open up.

“If you don’t want to, we can don’t celebrate,” he says, trying to meet your eyes, and when he does, they’re wide open.

“Why? I’ve got you now,” you say, lifting in front of his face the two garlands you picked, putting the right one in the cart once he points at it. “Fuck my family, I’m not alone anymore. And I don’t want to be sad, I want to celebrate, and make my little traditions, have our Christmas.”

A small chuckle leaves his lips at your words, but then he gets serious again. “Are you sure? I always fear you push your limits for me, and I don’t want you to break —”

You stop him with a wave of hand. “Hyuck,” you say, smiling at him. “I’m fine. I’m better than I’ve ever been. I want this to be special. I’m not making your family come over to an empty house for the holidays.”

His eyes widen. “Wait, you’re sure about that too? My mom tends to get carried away and she just —”

“Oh, oh, Lee Donghyuck, are you perhaps the scared one?” You ask with a teasing smirk on your face and burst into a laugh when he blushes and turns his head low. “Oh my God, you are scared of this. You’re shitting yourself, just like when I proposed to move in with me.” You nudge him, but he slaps your arm away playfully, and then you start walking again. “Confess, you liked me better when I was the one that ran away.”

“God no, any version of you, but never the one that slips from my fingers with no warning. It was traumatic,” he confesses, there’s a smile on his face, but in his eyes, you see that thinking about it still hurts him a bit, and you’re so deeply sorry.

“Promise, never again,” you say, kissing his cheek. “So, tell me, what’s so scary about your family?”

He sighs, rubbing his temples before you both look on the shelves to pick the decorations to put on the garlands. “They’re loud and loud… and loud.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I like that. What do they do? Talk a lot? Sing a lot?”

“Sing a lot? You don’t want to know what we used to do. One year my sister even had a wardrobe of costumes to perform in front of us, I feared Mariah Carey was going to lose her yearly check.”

You laugh at the image. And then caress his face. “Me, my brother, and Johnny used to do that too. Not with the costumes, I confess we weren’t at those levels, but nobody, I swear nobody, not even the pissy neighbor, could take away our performance. It was unfair because they would always make me play the elf, I was too short between those two giants,” you scoff, rolling your eyes before your laugh gets loud again when you remember something. “One year my brother almost got grounded because he had painted my face green using our mom’s make-up, it was so funny. She was so mad, but he couldn’t stop laughing because of me and Johnny.”

Haechan laughs too, looking at you with softness in his eyes. You’re happy. You’re talking about your brother with a smile on your face, there’s no sign of a small twitch of your lips or the nervous playing with your fingers, just a genuine smile on your face. And you talk about him a lot, all the stupid things you used to do together, all the times he had your back, or when a song, movie, or book reminds you of him. A few months ago, you even showed him a photo book you kept stored under your bed and you talked for hours, some tears fell on your cheeks, but they were different from all the ones before. And Haechan is so happy to see you like this, to feel like your brother is still here with you, now that you don’t act like his death never happened, or his entire existence never happened.

“The three of you were a menace. How did your families survive?”

“I don’t know,” you giggle, looking at him, and smiling fondly. “I mean, without us, their lives would’ve been so boring. We always put a smile on their faces,” you say, and then sadness flashes in your eyes for a bit, but you wipe it away quickly. “You know, I wish that didn’t break my family apart. I wish my parents would’ve, I’m not saying I wanted them to fear losing me too, but at least cared about me more. Put the pride aside and welcome me back in, instead of pushing out their only child. I wish I could have them with me, laughing about the past… I mean, it’s not easy, and you know that I wasn’t like this until a year ago, but… don’t they feel like they’re grieving me too? I think I could still make them smile, I have so many stories about my brother that I haven’t told them yet. He could still live through us.”

“I think they need more time,” Haechan says, reaching your hand that’s standing on the bar of the cart, rubbing your palm with his thumb like he always does when you need support. “But they will search for you again, more than the five texts you share in a year.”

When he tells you that, you’re reminded of something you forgot to tell him a few days ago. “My mom sent me a recipe the other day, I thought she wanted to send it to one of her friends, but she wanted to send it to me.”

“See? It’s a step forward unless she was foreshadowing that she’s going to kill you and cook you in the oven,” he jokes, making you laugh as you playfully push him away.

“You’re always so stupid. Help me pick the last things, come on,” you say, changing the subject.

Yes, you can talk about this more freely, but you still need to chew on it, taking small bites, or else you’ll choke.

You walk out of the kitchen with two hot mugs in your hands, just to find Haechan blankly staring at all the boxes on the floor with a confused expression, and you roll your eyes. “What now?”

He lifts his head, walking toward you to grab his mug and leave a peck on your lips as a ‘thank you’ before he replies. “Don’t you think we went just a bit overboard? It’s too much.”

“It’s not. And look, the tree is already up because you’re the best man ever and you were so quick at putting it together,” you say, batting your lashes, making him glare at you. “What? Can’t even praise you right, now?”

“If you want my soul, I’m sad to inform you, you already have it,” Haechan says, pulling you in a hug before he kisses you again, this time it’s longer and more passionate. You chuckle when you pull away.

“It looks like it’s a lot, but it’s not,” you try to reason. “Most of these are decorations that we need to put on the tree or on the garlands that you proposed we would make, together, as a lovely, madly in love couple.”

“It wasn’t that cheesy when I proposed it,” he replies, grunting and scratching the back of his head.

“Come on, I made you hot chocolate, and the biscuits are getting ready in the oven, we’ll put on some music, and we’ll have some fun,” you say, placing the cup on the coffee table to turn on the TV. “Are you sure you’re not having double thoughts about us?” You ask, stopping midway and looking as his eyes widen.

“What? Why?” His voice comes out as a high-pitched squeal as he feels panic run through his body.

“I don’t know, I thought Christmas was your favorite holiday and I wanted it to be special. But I feel like you’re not as excited as you are for other things and maybe you feel like we’re running or something…” you sigh. “Are you afraid I will disappoint your family? Maybe I’m not enough — I…”

“No, God, no,” he replies, shaking his head. “It’s just a lot, and I was wondering if we could get it all done this weekend, but it has nothing to do with us,” he says, walking to you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Hey, I love you, and I love this. Every little thing we’ve built and we’re building together. I admit I’m afraid for my family. Not a single ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend of mine ever met my parents so, yeah, this is a pretty big and scary step, but it’s with you. And truth be told, I’m not afraid because I don’t think this is serious, or because I think they won’t like you, confession time, my mom loves you already,” he says with a smile on his face. “I’m more scared you won’t like them, and well, that they will scare you away. I know you made some big steps forward, but… you still have your fears, and we both know sometimes they take over and sometimes you fall back into old habits. And it’s fine with me, I know how to deal with them and take care of you, but in this case, it’s not in my power, I can’t control them, and what if they say something wrong? What if they ask the wrong questions? I —”

You shut him with a kiss, pulling him close by the long hair covering his neck. “You sound just like me,” you joke, pulling away. “I know you don’t have control over them, I don’t need you to have it. I hope they can become my family too, and I’m ready to let them in, step by step. I’m so happy you worry so much about me, but I have it under control,” you laugh lightheartedly. “I don’t snap anymore when my brother is brought up, I don’t lie anymore, and I don’t run away. You taught me to always face my fears, right? And that’s what I’m doing. Maybe not all at once. Surely, I will need you to back me up at some point of the night, but I’ve got it, and I’ve got you, and… I’m ready.”

The look in his eyes feels like home and so does the warm smile on his face. “I love you so much. I’m so proud of you, I can’t even explain it in words,” he says, kissing you again.

“I know you are,” you reply, caressing his face. “I mean, the fact you’ve been keeping up with me for three years says it all.”

“Two,” he replies.

“Nah–ah, you’ve been keeping up with my mood swings and fucked up coping mechanisms since you fucked me in your car, or maybe even since we talked that night. I mean, that was my first lie to you, so…”

He chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Mhh, maybe I should take you out tonight and make a stop there, our parking spot. Wouldn’t it be romantic?”

“Mhh, yes, and then we can even smoke weed,” you add, laughing with him. “But I doubt we’ll be free from the Christmas tasks, so maybe next time?”

“Yes, Miss. If my agenda is not booked, I’ll find a spot to slip you in,” he jokes before leaving a peck on your forehead and stepping back, going back to the boxes on the floor.

You can’t control the smile on your face as you stare at him. This is your first holiday together and even if it has been a hell of a month for you in these past few years, you feel your heart explode with happiness right now. After everything he has done for you, you feel like you can finally pay him back, and do something that makes him happy. Haechan always told you how much he loves Christmas. Since he was a child, he felt that, after a year of sacrifices, his family could be together with fewer worries. It didn’t matter if there weren’t many gifts under the tree or no gifts at all, he was happy because his parents didn’t have to work, and they could pretend life wasn’t so hard for at least a few days. He also told you he loved how the cities would light up, and everything seemed better.

“Will you help with the lights, or do I have to do it by myself?”

You shake your head out of your thoughts and look up at him, shrugging. “No intention of doing so.”

“Oh, come on, I will end up tangled in this mess,” he whines, pouting and looking at you with those big eyes you can’t resist.

“Fine, but just because I really like you,” you say, walking to him, grabbing the other end of the lights.

“Only like me?” He pouts as you both start walking around the tree, parting the branches to fit the lights in between them.

“Mhh, sometimes I feel like I can barely stand you, so yeah, maybe liking you is too much, sorry about that,” you joke, making him scoff.

Setting up the place with decorations was the plan, but with Haechan you learned nothing goes as planned. You’ve gotten used to it, it doesn’t trigger you anymore, not that much, especially when you find yourself in this situation. Laying on the floor with him on top of you, kissing along your jaw as his hand creeps under your sweatpants to reach your panties. That’s another thing you’ve gotten used to, the way, after years, you two still can’t keep your hands off each other. It’s surely different from what it was before, there’s no more fear, anger, and destructive passion when you two have sex, but the chemistry is still the same, just healthier.

“Hyuck,” you moan when his finger teases your clit and slit, forcing your head to roll back on the cold hard ground. You could’ve easily moved this to the couch, but it was just easier to be there where you two ended up, the red decorations resting to the side, waiting to be finished. In your defence, you are almost halfway done; the tree is almost done, the small Santa clauses, reindeer, and trees are placed here and there on the shelves, and the strings of lights are running from corner to corner of the living room.

“You’re so wet,” Haechan teases, trails of wet kisses painting your face before reaching your pouting lips, “I wonder why,” he jokes, his typical smirk sitting on his face as he looks at your face.

Another thing you learned by dating Haechan, is that you will never get bored. He’s always thinking about something, coming up with ideas, planning things. He’s not much different from you after all, he simply doesn’t look over a plan more than twice (sometimes he doesn’t even get to the second time). This time it’s not any different. He was looking at you like a puppy that can’t wait to bite a bone, jumping on his seat on the floor as you two decorated with Christmas music filling the background. You know his eyes; when he looks at you without saying a word and just waits for you to catch up as if you can read his mind. You don’t get why he does it since he’s so impatient and surely not shy, but he finds it entertaining for some reason and you play along.

“What?” You had asked, struggling to hide the amused grin on your face when his lips curved in a smile.

“Want to try something new?”

Those five words, followed by a bet to see how long you would last with a small bullet vibrator inside of you before begging for him to give you more, are the reason you’re so wet. You thought it would be funny and he would go gentle on you, but you were so wrong. And it took you less than fifteen minutes to beg for him to make it stop.

“Don’t be so mad, I’m giving you what you want,” he pouts, kissing your puckered lips over and over.

“You’re not. You’re teasing, like always,” you groan.

“Am I?” he grins, pushing your hair back as he stares into your deadly glare. “Fine,” he groans, rolling his eyes back before bringing them back to you. “What do you want?”

Another loud grunt slips past your lips, but you quickly force words to come out. “Your fingers, please,” the last word is filled with sarcasm, and he gives you a stern glare at which you only shrug.

“You’re such a brat,” Haechan mocks, quickly flicking his fingers on your clit, watching with amusement as your eyes roll back and your teeth trap your lips to stop the loud moan to come out. “Is this enough?”

“No,” you whine. “Take the toy out and fuck me,” you order, but you only get a mocking laugh in reply.

“So bossy today. I let you decide so much already, I think you can leave this to me, uhm,” he teases as his fingers keep moving on your clit without giving you more.

You sigh defeated and relax, your shoulders drop back as you decide to just enjoy the sensation of his stimulation, the filling of the toy, and the light vibrations.

Just as he’s about to give you what you’ve been asking for, the loud sound of the doorbell stops you two in your tracks.

“Did you order something?” Haechan asks, hand still buried in your pants but still.

You shake your head, shrugging, thinking it’s nothing and ready to beg him to keep going, but the bell rings again and you huff loudly.

“The neighbor?” Haechan tries to guess again.

“She’s out, she told me a few days ago, it can’t — oh, goddamn,” you huff when it rings again.

But your doubts are soon answered when the front door swings open and your heart jumps in your throat.

“Is it possible that you two never hear the bell ring?”

“Johnny!” You scream, pushing Haechan’s hand away and him off your body roughly, trying to fix yourself the best you can and get on your feet.

“Oh, sorry,” your best friend looks at your dishevelled look with a grin on his face. “Interrupted something?”

You groan and simply throw a pillow at him in response, but it does him no harm as he quickly catches it even if he only has one hand free.

“No, we were decorating.” Haechan tries to save the situation, but you know it’s useless as you roll your head back and sigh again. Johnny’s not dumb, unfortunately.

“Oh, is it a new slang? I didn’t know we call it like that nowadays, interesting,” he teases, walking toward the couch. “I always learn new things from you two.” He kisses your forehead, and you don’t even push him away, but rub your eyes when he passes over you to greet your boyfriend.

“You can’t just burst in with no warning,” you sigh, turning around, watching as he studies the mess in the living room as if it’s his place.

“I rang three times, not my fault your boyfie didn’t think of pulling his hand out of your pants,” he shrugs before lifting his head and smiling at you.

“I’ll change the code, I swear,” you threaten, rubbing your temples.

“And I will still know it in case of an emergency. Just because you got yourself the love of your life it doesn’t mean you downgrade me, hey!”

Another loud annoyed sound comes out of your mouth, and you swiftly catch Haechan going red in the face after Johnny’s words, but you shake it off. “You wait for us to answer.”

“You could’ve said ‘I’m coming’ or ‘wait a second’, you know? That’s what normal people do,” he reminds you, placing the bags he’s carrying on the floor to take off his coat, and placing it on the couch.

“She swears it’s people that want to sell you something, so she looks out of the peephole and then pretends she’s not home,” Haechan explains.

“Bullshits, she wanted to leave her best friend to freeze to death in the corridor,” he dramatizes, lifting a hand on his forehead and faking passing out on the couch.

“You’re so dramatic,” you groan. “What do you even want?”

“It’s been two weeks since we’ve seen each other, and this is how you greet me?” He gasps offended.

“Don’t laugh,” you say to Haechan, who immediately stops laughing and apologizes with a shrug. “I’m sorry. How can we help, my dearest friend?”

“Fake,” Johnny gags. “But I brought you two something,” he says, patting the space on the couch for you to sit and then lifting two bags.

“Christmas is two weeks away,” you say. You already have your gifts, of course you do, but you still need to wrap them up like you want to. So, you hope these are not your presents because you wouldn’t be ready to give him yours.

“I know, it’s not a Christmas gift, it’s just a gift.”

Haechan raises a brow. “For us?”

“Yes,” he replies. “The first one is from my mom, it’s a cake.”

“You should’ve said that right away,” you say, grabbing the box from his hands. “It’s so pretty, and it’s going to taste so good. Thank her!”

“About that, you can do that if you come to my place tonight. I told her you won’t be with us this Christmas, she had a mental breakdown, so please, can you two don’t fuck tonight and come to my place?”

“We’re not perverts, you know,” Haechan scoffs.

“Not sure about that,” Johnny mumbles, and your boyfriend slaps his arm. “What? You two were never able to keep your hands off each other.”

“Look at him, rewriting history. You didn’t notice we were fucking until she told you!”

“Tell him, Hyuck,” you back him up from the kitchen where you’re placing the cake so it can be safe from the mess of the other room.

“Fine, but I still know you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Anyway, can we focus? The sooner I’ll leave, the faster you’ll go back to what you were doing.”

“Yeah, that’s — oh,” you stop, eyes widening when you hear the vibrations pick up again. “We’ll come.”

“I’m sure we will,” Haechan mutters under his breath and you glare at him, silently telling him to don’t even think about it, but he only smiles smugly and shrugs.

You clear your throat, trying to walk back to the couch as if nothing is going on, and urge Johnny to finish this soon.

“And this is a bag full of things my mom wanted you to have,” he says, handing you the other. “I don’t think it’s necessary anymore, you two got yourself a lot of things, but yeah…”

You grab it with shaky hands and look inside.

“Will she cry?” Haechan asks, and at the same time, you feel the vibration stop, which makes you chuckle under your breath with your head low. It’s sweet that he thinks adding fighting an orgasm to a breakdown is not a good idea.

Johnny thinks about it, leaning to the side to look at you, and then hums. “Probably.”

“I’ll take a look at this after, so I can break down crying with him alone,” you say, getting up, and stretching your arms out to hug Johnny. It’s your nice way to tell him you’re grateful, but also, he needs to leave. And it would work smoothly if only Haechan didn’t have other plans.

“We baked cookies, why don’t you stay for a while? What about a cup of coffee too?”

You glare at Haechan again when the vibrations start high, leaving you breathless, but quickly force yourself to smile at your friend.

“Yes, I love cookies and coffee!” Johnny cheers, wrapping an arm around Haechan as he guides him to the kitchen.

“Of course you do…” you whisper under your breath, rubbing your temples and following them in the kitchen.

You sit on a chair, hoping to bring yourself as little attention as possible, and that if you keep your thighs pressed enough you won’t come in your pants in front of your best friend. But Haechan is not exactly helping you, shifting the speed and waves so that you can’t ever get used to the sensation.

“The cookies are amazing,” Johnny moans after a bite and you try to give him a gentle smile.

“Thanks,” you dare to speak out, surprising yourself when you do with no sign of desperation.

“The place is coming together nicely, by the way,” he comments, walking to sit in front of you.

“We didn’t put up a lot, just the smallest things on the furniture,” Haechan comments, “and the tree, but well, we didn’t put on the balls so it’s empty.”

“Shit,” you cry out when he rises the speed, but you quickly play it cool by holding the back of your leg, “a cramp.”

Johnny’s eyebrows are raised in suspicion, not by your poor acting, but because Haechan isn’t on his knees in front of you in two seconds to make sure you’re alright, but he shrugs it away when your boyfriend asks if you need help.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, stretching your leg to keep playing the part and massaging the ‘sore’ muscle.

“So, what time should we be there tonight?” Haechan asks, and you hear he’s trying hard not to laugh.

“Seven, so my mom can annoy you with questions before dinner and then we can start and eat in peace,” Johnny says, thanking Haechan when he brings the coffee cup to the table.

“Your mom’s nice,” Haechan says, “and she’s an amazing cook. She will cook tonight, right?”

“Hey! I’m good too. But yes, she insisted, so the kitchen is all hers,” Johnny huffs, “even if I will hear her complain because my things are not where she would keep them.”

You try to laugh but quickly turn it into a silent giggle when you feel you can’t hold the sounds in easily anymore. Haechan’s hand is not in the pocket of his pants, busy preparing the last two cups of coffee, but the vibrations are stuck at the highest speed, and you’re squirming on the chair, nervously twitching your legs.

“I saw Mark and Minjeong yesterday,” Johnny changes the subject as he suddenly remembers. “We should organize something all together before the holidays. It’s been what? One month now, since we’ve all been out together?”

“We actually hung out with them last week,” Haechan says. “They finished remaking our old place and wanted us over.”

“Y’all are cutting me out of your lives, I don’t like this,” Johnny complains.

You roll your eyes. “We’re not,” you spit out, as fast as you can, so no shakiness slips from your lips. And then mutter a “Thanks,” to Haechan when he hands you the cup and then sits next to you.

“It’s just because it was my place before, they wanted me to see the changes,” Haechan explains. “But I think they’re planning something with all of us soon. They’re just… busy.”

Johnny quirks a brow. “Busy like you two bunnies or busy, busy?”

“Shut up!” You scream, glaring at him. But can you blame him? Right now, you two are proving his point. He just doesn’t know it.

“I’m kidding,” Johnny says, lifting his hands in the air before grabbing another cookie. “I know they are, Minjeong just changed her job, and Mark is Mark. But we should find a free weekend or something, we could even go to my beach house for New Year’s.”

“Yeah, why not,” you force out, one hand slipping under the table to squeeze Haechan’s thighs, telling him to lower the speed, but it’s useless, he acts as if you’re not even there.

“Can I change roommate this time? This one right here is a bit too clingy,” Haechan jokes, pointing at you with his head, making Johnny laugh.

You force out a small laugh, rubbing your sweaty palm against your neck to fill your silence with something.

“Man, I really need to find somebody,” Johnny sighs heavily, letting his head fall against the table theatrically. “You sweet couples make me feel so lonely.”

“Weren’t you going out with,” you stop, pretending to think of her name but, in reality, you’re trying to collect yourself and don’t focus on the pulsing of your pussy. “Hana?”

Johnny lifts his head and pouts. “We fucked.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it’s great, don’t get me wrong. But I’m too old for that, I want to settle down.” His hand points at your living room. “That shit out there? The cheesy lovemaking while setting up the place for Christmas? The way y’all live together? I can’t believe your cold-ass heart got it before me. I was Mr. Romantic, and look at me.”

You chuckle tenderly, caressing his hand, trying not to make it shake. “And… will it just be sex?”

“It’s not even exclusive. But it doesn’t matter ‘cause I broke it off,” he pouts.

“You’ll find someone,” Haechan chimes in. “You are husband material, it’s impossible you’ll stay single much longer.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he scoffs before his gaze falls on the clock. “Shit, I’m late, I have to go,” he says, jumping off the chair and walking to the living room. Haechan is quicker than you at following outside, but you feel like your knees could give up in two seconds, and you keep your hands tight in a fist, leaning against the door, watching him get dressed. “Thanks for the biscuits and the coffee, I had fun. See you tonight.”

“Bye! See you later,” you two greet, waving with your hands after he quickly hugs and kisses you both.

When Johnny is out of the door, you jump on Haechan, and he laughs. “You’re a monster. This is not funny!”

“A monster? You had fun, brat,” he teases, kissing you as he lifts you, walking into the living room, this time laying you on the couch. “And I won’t tease you anymore, I’ll give you what you want. But then we really have to wrap something up here and then get ready for dinner.”

This time he’s true to his word, quickly pulling your pants and panties down before leaning down between your legs, leaving pecks on your thighs before he kisses your clit, making your hips jolt.

A shaky sigh comes out of your lips when he pulls the toy out of you, leaving you empty before his fingers take its place without teasing. Your head rolls behind, this time meeting the softness of the couch, and your hands reach his arms, wrapping around them to hold onto something.

“You’re even wetter now,” he teases, looking down between your legs. Your cum dripping down, making a mess on your ass and his fingers. “You’re such a tease, you know? You can’t even deny how much having people watching or listening turns you on.”

You groan, hiding your face against the couch because all the teasing before already made it impossible for you to properly talk back.

“Look at me,” Haechan orders, but you shake your head. He scoffs, cupping your chin to turn your face around. “You’re such a brat today.”

You scoff, “me?”

“Yes, you,” he whispers close to your face, lips brushing against yours as a tease but leaving you without the kiss you crave so much. “Think I didn’t see you before? Sitting on your heels, desperately trying to get off without me noticing,” he mocks with a chuckle. “I have to say, you were smart, talking to me and distracting me, thinking I’m stupid. But I saw that, angel.”

Your body burns up in shame, and you once again try to hide, but his hold is firm, and you soon give up.

“Is this what you want? Are my fingers fucking you well?” He murmurs, biting your earlobe, making you moan louder.

“Ye-yes,” you cry out, planting your feet against the couch to have a solid hold as you grind your hips against him.

“Look at you,” he mocks, pulling back from your face, letting go of it to wrap a hand around your waist and push it down, eliciting another whiny complaint from you. “I guess they’re not enough if you’re grinding on them like that.”

You shake your head. “They are, I swear,” your voice breaks when his thumb presses against your clit, and your thighs fly shut.

“Oh no, baby,” he scolds, forcibly pushing your legs apart with his hand. “Keep those pretty legs open for me, you’re not going anywhere.”

“Please,” you cry out. “You edged me all afternoon.”

He laughs, throwing his head back. “All afternoon? Damn, sex really gets to your brain. If it’s been an hour, it’s a lot.”

You frown, trying to glare at him, but the furrow on your face only makes him smile.

“Fine, fine. It looks like you really want to come, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you reply weakly, but he doesn’t do anything.

“Just a bit more. You’re just so pretty like this. And your pussy squeezes so nicely around my fingers, these beautiful sounds,” he hums, pressing against your sweet spot, forcing more cum out of you in dirty squelches. And the lust in his voice just pushes you even closer to the edge.

“Haechan,” you cry out, eyes closing as your chest heavies more.

“Use your words, babe. You can do it.”

And you would do it easily if only his fingers didn’t pick up a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping for air as your eyes stare into his, the fake innocence and smugness behind them driving you insane.

“Hyuck, please, fuck, please let me come.”

“Mhh, you sound so pretty,” he coos happily. “Come on, I teased you enough. Come for me.”

And you do, finally letting go of all the pleasure you’ve been holding in for so long; it doesn’t matter if it’s the entire afternoon or just an hour. Your body trembles against his, your thighs would clench if only it wasn’t for his hand keeping you spread open, and your head rolls back as loud moans slip out.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Haechan moans, slowing down the pace of his fingers inside of you once he makes sure you’re done and then slowly takes them out.

“Kiss me!” You order, pulling him closer.

“You’re so bossy today,” he laughs when he moves away from the kiss, and you pout.

“I need you.”

“Yeah, I know.” He kisses you again. “Let me get out of my clothes, alright?” You hum, watching him get up to get out of his pants and underwear before trapping your body again. His lips meet yours, and your fingers run in his long hair, pulling hard enough to make him moan and rut his hips against you, but not enough to hurt him.

“Shit, turn around,” he orders, moving back enough to give you space to move as he helps you get in the position he wants.

When your face presses against the couch and your hips swing side by side, you hear him inhale deeply and mumble a curse under his breath.

“You’re so beautiful,” Haechan comments, hands cupping your ass before he leans in, kissing your neck.

“Please, fuck me,” you beg, ordering in a whiny voice.

“So fucking desperate,” he mocks, slapping your ass before placing a hand at the side of your face to keep his body up. The other grabs the base of his dick, the leaking tip pushing against your awaiting slit.

You moan shamelessly, driving your hips back, thinking he’s finally going to sink in, but he doesn’t. He rubs the head on your clit, making you shiver, tremble and whine.

“Please, don’t,” you cry, but he only laughs mockingly at you.

“Look at you,” Haechan taunts. “How long has it been? One week?”

“Two,” you mutter angrily. “Two weeks.” It’s not about the sex, per se, but you two have been so busy with work lately that you’ve barely had time to be together. Last week, he did go down on you, but it was quick since he had a phone call, and you didn’t even get the after-cuddles you love so much.

He snickers, throwing his head back as he keeps teasing, this time pushing the tip in and out, watching your hole stretch and then clench around nothing. “Sorry, sorry. You don’t want my mouth or fingers, you want my dick. Still,” he lowers, hot breath hitting your ear, “don’t you think it’s a bit pathetic after two weeks to be so desperate for me?”

You shake your head, biting your lips, moving your hips to grind against him and force him inside you somehow, but all with no success.

“Can you humiliate yourself even more, love?” He jokes.

“Hyuck,” you whine, searching for his hand. “Yes, I’m pathetic for you, are you happy now? Can you please fuck me? Or do I have to — fuck!” Your complaint gets shut down when he pushes into you, you’re so wet and relaxed he does it with no struggle, filling you deeply and leaving you breathless.

“Happy now?”

You nod quickly, smiling widely but letting out no words.

“Good, so something does satisfy you,” he groans, head falling back as he holds onto your hips.

You whine, wanting to scream that anything he does satisfies you and that you’re not that greedy, but you let it slip.

And then it comes, his face hides in the crook of your neck and one of his arms sneaks around you, keeping you close. And you love this, it drives you crazy to know you can have the roughest sex and most mind-blowing orgasms of your life while still being loved and cherished so much. You love it so much that you don’t push him away anymore, but let him sink deeper. All over you. Deep into you.

“Hyuck,” you call out his name, hand moving behind to search for his skin, and finding an arm.

“I know, babe, I know.” His lips leave kisses over your jawline, biting softly every now and then, and his eyes roll back when you clench around him. “Am I fucking you good?” He hums, moving your hair away so he can see your face. “Deep and nice, just like you love it?”

You nod in quick motions. Body squirming under his before it stills when you feel the toy press against your clit again and buzz against you. You let out a high-pitched cry, face pressing against the couch as your fingers fist the soft fabric.

“Hush, babe,” Haechan whispers against your ear. “We both know you love this.”

“Yes, but —” the words die in your throat.

“But, what?” He teases. “What’s wrong, honey?” He coos in a patronizing tone, and you groan.

He knows how easily you come when you use any type of vibrator. He has seen you come undone with them so many times you’ve lost the count. And he knows it’s even worse when he’s deep inside of you, hitting all your right spots while the vibrating toy keeps stimulating your sensitive clit.

“You — you know what,” you whine, trying to look back to pity him.

His movements stop completely, and the warmth of his body leaves you except the hand on your waist. “Mh, no, I don’t think I do.”

You whine louder, hips jerking up to urge him to pick up his thrusts again, and he does, snapping in and out of you like before.

“So, you won’t help me? I’ll have to find out the problem on my own?” He teases. “But… you want this faster?”

“No!” You yelp when he puts the toy at the highest setting, making you try to close your legs but with no success. “Hyuck, please,” your voice breaks, tears menacing to run down your face as you feel another orgasm build up in your stomach, fist closing incredibly tight around the pillow of the couch.

“Oh… my bad. Does it make you come too easily?” Haechan says, faking a tone of surprise as he leans closer to you, finally giving you the warmth of his body again. It’s funny how you avoided contact before, and how much you need it now.

You nod swiftly, biting your lips to muffle the messy moans.

“And my baby doesn’t want that?” He pouts, caressing your hair out of your forehead. “You were so mad I edged you for so long and now you don’t — fuck — want to come over and over again?”

You don’t answer, not with coherent words at least, and groan again.

“You can take it, I know you can,” he groans, inhaling deeply as he lifts his body and throws his head back. He teases you a lot but he’s just as sensitive and desperate. Two weeks too long since he had you, and your body is so responsive, clenching and dripping around him, making him go insane too.

“Let’s come together, ugh?” He moans. “Then I’ll fuck my cum deep inside of you and you’ll come just one last time.”

A guttural moan slips from your mouth at his words, the idea of him fucking his cum into you over and over until he’ll fill you up with another load driving you insane.

“Close,” you mutter.

“Yeah, me too,” he groans, “come.”

Your body lets go, orgasm setting free like a trigger, sending shivers down your spine. Your lips are free from the hold of your teeth, not caring if you’re too loud and someone might hear. It feels too good to hold back. Not only for the pleasure itself, but for the way your boyfriend’s hands run on your hot skin, how his moans and whimpers fill your ears, and especially the sensation of his cum filling you up. When his hips still against you, and his whole body presses you down, you’re still shaking from the aftermath.

Your eyes flutter shut when he starts moving again, barely giving you the time to come down from your high.

“You feel so good, I could stay buried in this sweet pussy for days,” Haechan moans, hiding in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and leaving kisses on your skin.

You moan, letting your body relax to the feeling of him being all over you. One arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand roams around your body, caressing your stomach, your boobs, your thighs, everything he can find.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he comments when he lifts his head, not enough to unstuck his chest from your back but enough to look at your wrecked face. “Most beautiful thing in the world.”

You melt at his comments, feeling warmth in your stomach, this time not given by pleasure but love. You are loved, wholeheartedly, completely, and endlessly. Every part of you, every flaw, every masterpiece. Haechan doesn’t leave anything behind. He loves you. Deeply. Constantly. Inhumanly. Because you still can’t believe it’s possible for someone to love so much, especially when it comes to you. But he proves it to you every single day, from the sweet words to these passionate moments.

“Ki-kiss me,” you mumble, pouting until his lips are on yours. The position is a bit uncomfortable but you two make it work anyway. Kissing each other over again, going from deep kisses to pecks.

“Fuck, pretty,” he groans. “You’re taking me so well. My dick stretching you out, my cum filling you up, so much of it we’re making a mess. You love being my messy princess, don’t you?”

You nod. “Yes — yes, love it.”

“I know, princess, I know. Dripping all the way down my balls, drooling on the couch, staining it with your pretty tears.” Now that you’ve opened up to him and cried more than just once in front of him, he loves these tears even more because they are good tears, caused by him not because he’s hurting you but because he’s making you feel good. And he’s obsessed with it, with the way your eyes look. Long lashes clumped together, looking even thicker and longer.

You’re about to beg him to go faster, but he obeys without you opening your mouth. Hips snapping fast against you, body pushing you even further against the soft couch.

A small giggle escapes your lips when his hand searches and then finds your hand, intertwining your fingers while the other cups your ass cheek before leaving a small slap.

“Shit, ever told you I fucking love your ass?”

You hum, nodding. You’d use some words, but the bliss is too strong to let you do anything other than whimpering and moaning. Your clit is swollen, throbbing hard, extra sensitive with all the vibrations of the toy before, and each slap of Haechan’s balls against it leaves you gasping for air.

Your hips squirm away, there’s not much room to go since your head is already pressed between the seat and the armrest, but you still slip a bit forward and Haechan chuckles darkly close to your ear.

“Running away, sweetheart?” The condescending, saccharin-sweet tone makes more shivers run down your spine, toes curling up and stomach twisting.

Your head moves in incoherent movement, and your hand holds his tighter for support. You feel like your head is spinning, and if it seemed like a good idea to keep the sweater on, now it feels like hell is on your skin.

“You can take it, can’t you?” He asks, voice genuinely sweet this time, but his body is not more clement with you. The harsh sounds of his pounding are still filling the room, drowning out the Christmas music that’s still playing on the TV — thank god the playlist moved to an instrumental one, or some classics would be ruined forever with these filthy moments in your mind.

You nod, but he’s not happy with a non-verbal question. Unless you’re fucked out, completely fucked out, he wants to hear your voice when he asks if you can take more.

“Words. I need words,” Haechan reminds you a bit more sternly, and you whine. “Come on, talk now, ‘cause soon that pretty mouth of yours will be stuffed full.”

With the risk of choking on your own saliva, you let out a barely audible “yes.”

“Good girl, that’s my good girl,” he praises with a long hum, caressing your burning hot cheek before ordering you around again. “Open those pretty lips for me, will you?”

You obey with no hesitation, ready to take anything he gives you. And when two fingers press down your tongue your mouth immediately closes to suck on them, eyes fluttering shut, pussy clenching around him and ass arching up.

“Fuck, knew you would’ve loved this,” he groans.

Over the years, you realized Haechan loves doing this. To you, it’s funny because he rarely lets you go down on him, always whining because he has to eat you out, so 80% of the time, when it’s time for oral, you’re always on the receiving end. You don’t complain, you honestly think it’s a blessing he’s so obsessed with eating you out, but you don’t understand why he’s obsessed with watching you suck his fingers and not as obsessed with watching you suck his cock.

His moans get louder and whinier and you feel your stomach turn upside down and your core get even wetter. You almost bite him when his other hand moves from your hips to your clit, rubbing it, making you arch your ass up at the overstimulation.

Your wet eyes look up at him, begging him for release, but there’s not much to beg since you’re squeezing him, and he’s overstimulated too.

When his fingers leave your mouth, you gasp, taking in all the air, and start slurring his name. “Hyuck, Hyuck, please, wanna — wanna come, please.”

He leans down, kissing you. It’s a messy, wet kiss, with lips and teeth clashing, and your hand desperately reach for his body. “Come with me, princess. You deserve it.”

The orgasm breaks through you, a tingling sensation of pleasure running through your bones making you squirm against his body pressing you down. With one last strong thrust inside of you, you can’t control the jet of liquid squirting out of you.

A string of curses comes out of you, but Haechan is quick at shutting it up with more messy kisses and quick movements to ride the pleasure out. “It’s alright, you’re alright, you’re alright, babe. Shh, calm down, it’s fine. You did great.”

Your body slumps against the fabric and you let the warmth of his skin warm you up as you come down from the high. Haechan never stops whispering sweet words in your ear, kissing and caressing you, as he slowly — and reluctantly — pulls out of you.

“Fuck,” he murmurs when cum starts spilling out of you. “We made a mess.”

You chuckle, shrugging. “We’ll clean it up,” you say. “Later.”

He laughs, but turns you around, after laying against the backrest, pulling you close to him. “Want some well-deserved cuddles?”

“Yes please.”

“Will you see what’s in the bag?” Haechan asks when he comes out of your bedroom, all cleaned up after the shower you quickly took together, and sees you stare down at the brown bag Johnny brought.

You shrug. You don’t know what’s inside, you could barely get a glimpse when you peeked before, but something makes you fear there will be too many memories, and you’re not sure you’re ready for them all.

Your head turns around when you feel the couch bend with Haechan’s weight, and it immediately finds his shoulder to rest. His arm wraps around you, sneaking under your sweater to rub your skin, and you sigh.

“You don’t have to, not right now,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

“But I do, I have to see her tonight, and I want to thank her.”

“Okay but if anything triggers you, promise me you’ll stop?”

“Promise,” you reply and then you flip it over on the floor. You can feel Haechan’s persistent gaze on you and you feel some sadness wash over you, but you feel fine for now. And then a smile appears on your face.

“I didn’t know she had our socks,” you say, grabbing the red stockings with reindeer and elves, and studying them. The fabric it’s a bit ruined over time, but they still look the same, and you can still picture them hanging, either on Johnny’s fireplace or on the furniture your family put them on. Your fingers graze over your brother’s name and you smile fondly. “Can we hang them? So I… so I can pretend there will be something for him too?” You ask, turning to Haechan that’s already apprehensively staring at you.

“Of course, we can even fill his with something, if you want to,” he proposes, but you shake your head. The idea of the gifts being left there would just make you sad, but this is a good compromise.

“Our scarves!” You bend over to grab them. “We knitted them, and I think you can see it,” you chuckle, fingers running over the bumps in the wool and other imprecision.

“Better than me if I would try now. My mom is excellent at it, she made me try once and I made way worse than this,” Haechan says, grabbing the other scarf and noticing that it’s not perfect but not even terrible.

“I’ll keep in mind to ask your mom for this one,” you say, cuddling up to him.

“Nope, you won’t,” he jokes, shaking his head with vigor, slightly blushing.

There are other things in there, but mostly decorations, there’s even a Christmas decoration that you loved when you were a kid, and you’re so grateful she gifted it to you. But then Haechan is attracted by something else. “What is this?” he asks, lifting a gingerbread plush, and your heart sinks in your chest.

Not a word comes out of your mouth for almost a minute, as you try to get some saliva in your mouth. “It’s — it’s me…”

Haechan studies your expression and immediately puts it away, but you stop him.

“I’m fine,” you mumble. “I just… I need time…”

“I don’t need to know, it’s fine, really,” he reassures you, touching your hand, but you shake your head.

“No, I want to,” you say. You wet your lips and fidget with your fingers before taking the plush in your hesitant hands.

“It’s not a Christmas gift, but it’s the last gift I got from him… a few days before his death. He called me gingerbread because I was obsessed with gingerbread men as a kid. Honestly, I was terrorized by them, they were men, I thought I was committing cannibalism, but then I tried one and I loved being a cannibal,” you chuckle, voice shaking as you fight back tears. “And when I grew older, I wanted to make them myself, I wanted them to be our family thing, but they never became one. My parents worked until the 24th and didn’t have time to wake up early and make them with me, so it was only me and my brother. He would always wake up early with me and help me make them.”

“You didn’t make gingerbread men today,” Haechan points out.

“No, those are for the Eve and Christmas,” you say resolutely. “Don’t worry, I will make them for you,” you giggle, and he smiles.

“Go on, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I would be worried sick too to be left without my cookies,” you joke before turning serious. “A week before his death he walked in a street market and saw this,” you shake the plush in your hands and smile, “and he gifted it to me. He told me that it wasn’t Christmas, so that was a sign that he had to buy it for me and that it was scandalous that in fifteen years he never gifted me anything related to gingerbread men. And I remember that… I laughed so much when I saw it because it’s cute but also weird. The eyes are slightly not on the same level, the smile is funny, and the white lines are all different, this one doesn’t even reach the seam. And he told me that that made it even more special and that I’ve never been normal, so it was even more me.”

“It looks like you now that I look better at it,” Haechan says, there’s a hint of irony but also sweetness in his voice.

You chuckle, wiping away a tear. “He used to often remind me he would always protect me, but when he gave me that, there was something different. And even if that was me, it was almost his way of telling me that he was always going to be with me, that’s why he had bought two. But his one was normal, and he kept it in the car.”

“You can stop,” Haechan says as soon as he guesses when this is going, but you shake your head.

“I held onto this toy for days at the hospital and it was the last thing he held before he… well… you know.” Your voice is broken by tears, the same ones that are rolling down your cheeks, but you’re fine. “I hated this, I hated that his got lost, destroyed, I don’t know, I… never dared to watch the conditions of the car after. I hated it because it was supposed to be me and this gingerbread man, not him. I hated it because it had lost his other half but didn’t feel half the pain I felt. So I threw it away.”

“But…”

“Is still here… yes. Because it’s me, and I survived,” you say, chuckling. “No, I’m kidding, no paranormal shits, it’s simply Johnny, I guess. He always knew what was better, and he must’ve kept it to the side, waiting for the right moment to bring it back to me.”

Haechan hums, his thumb still caressing your palm. “Are you mad?”

You raise your head, wiping away the tears. “No, I’m glad he always knows what to do with me. If you think you met me at my worst, you have no idea what Johnny had to go through when it all happened. He had to see the joyful, reckless, funny little girl he always knew turn into a cryptic, scheming, and cold woman from day to night and still decided to stick with me. He saw me at my worst, literally…” you breathe out. Another reason why you don’t like to think about back then is because you hate who you were.

“You deserved him, you deserved to have someone that didn’t judge you or blame you.”

You shrug. “I don’t know… I gave him a good dose of shit to deal with, as if he wasn’t mourning my brother too.”

“You know, from all these conversations we had over the past months, and after I could see what you have with Johnny from a closer point of view, I think you’re missing something.”

“Me?”

Haechan nods.

Your lips twitch in a wince, it’s been a while since Haechan taught you a life lesson, but usually you can see where he’s going, right now, you have no idea. “And what is it?”

“You always say that Johnny is like your brother, but Johnny is your brother. The three of you were raised together, his mom loves you as if you’re her daughter, and we all know that your brother trusted him with you so much that Johnny promised him to always keep you safe. Johnny didn’t choose to stay because he’s a good friend, but because you’re his sister, and because after losing his brother, he wasn’t going to lose you too. Maybe you hurt him, I truly don’t know what you two have been through, but he loves you so unconditionally that I’m sure he doesn’t regret it. And he would stick by your side over and over again.”

You smile fondly and hum. “You’re right, but I guess I’ll never get free of my guilt, will I? I mean, I still feel so bad for everything I put you through, no amount of good things happening between us makes me feel at peace with myself.”

“Not to take your therapist’s place but remember what she told you? Why you love to punish yourself for every little thing?”

You pout, nodding silently. Your awareness of you not being the cause of your brother’s death didn’t make the deepest parts of you aware in the same way. Something unconscious was still screaming at you, urging you to punish yourself even when there was forgiveness from the other side.

“Can you hug me? I don’t know what else to say,” you confess, and he smiles at you, pulling you into a hug. It lasts for minutes. Minutes of silence, heartbeats, and nothing more. Comfort. Peace. Healing. And when it breaks apart, you smile, feeling another brick of your walls falling down.

“Do you want to put this in a nice place or are you using it to take over your anger?”

You smile, grabbing the plush. “I want to put it somewhere nice.”

You never felt so much anxiety run through your bones as you do right now; pacing back and forth in the living room, staring obsessively at the clock, waiting to hear the ring of the bell that will mean such a big change for you.

You might’ve underestimated what meeting your boyfriend’s parents (and family) truly meant. All the hype you had until two weeks ago, disappeared when you remembered you had never met any of your partner’s parents before.

“Okay, enough.” Haechan jumps off the couch and stops you midway, blocking your arms. “I usually let you do your weird things, but you will consume the floor if you keep doing this and you will drive me insane.”

“But I’m nervous,” you whine, starting to torture your lips.

“Oh my god, stop that too,” he says, pulling your lower lip out of your teeth with his thumb. “Move and you’ll see,” he warns when he sees you lift your hand, knowing it will end up in your mouth to pull at your hangnails.

You sigh defeated and slump on the couch. “I’m nervous.”

“I got it,” he says, sitting next to you. “They’re chill, I promise.”

“But I was fine before. Maybe this is a gut feeling, you know? Something is telling me this will go wrong…”

“Yeah, and that something is your paranoid ass. Babe, come on. You’re perfect.”

You’re far from perfect, and sometimes you wish you could see yourself from his eyes to see what he sees of you because you struggle to see the amazing things he notices about you. And you fear his family will be extremely disappointed when the fantasies his son tells them through the phone won’t meet the reality.

Haechan is about to open his mouth again when the intercom rings, and you freeze.

“Come with me,” he smiles, reaching out a hand, tapping his feet when it takes you too long to take it. “Babe, come on.”

“I’m gonna pass out,” you mumble as your hand reaches him and you get up from the couch. Haechan sighs deeply as he basically drags you to the intercom to open the door on the floor.

“You’ll be fine,” he says, trying to shrug off what he’s feeling. Now that you’re so anxious, he can’t help but feel it too. Maybe this was too soon, maybe you’re not ready, maybe this will be the breaking point and he will lose you again.

But then the doorbell rings, and you’re the first to reach out your hand and open the door.

“Hi, mom,” Haechan greets when he sees you’re struggling to find the words and throws himself in her arms to give you time to take it all in.

“Hyuck,” she says, her calm tone filled with love, “look at you.” Her hands cup his cheek and squeeze them roughly, making him groan, and you chuckle. “And look at you,” she adds, bringing her attention to you.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee,” you greet, bowing at 90°, but she laughs, and you freeze.

“Oh, honey, please, just come here and let me give you a warm welcome to the family,” she encourages you, opening her arms.

You quickly glance at Haechan, silently asking if this is a test, but he reassures you with a smile and nods in her direction. So, you step forward and hug her.

“You smell so good, honey,” she compliments, squeezing you before letting you go, and resting her hand on your shoulder. “And wow. Haechan kept talking about you and I guessed you were pretty but not like this, you’re beautiful.”

“You’re too kind, Mrs. Lee,” you say, lowering your head to hide how shy you feel right now. “You look beautiful too, now I know why Haechan is so handsome.”

She chuckles and then pats your arm. “Thanks, sweetheart. And just call me by my name, please.”

“I will.”

“So, where are the others?” Haechan asks, looking behind his mom and seeing the empty corridor.

“We brought something, your dad is taking everything from the car, and your siblings are helping him,” she explains, lifting her bags as you let her come in. “I wanted to dim her trauma of meeting the whole family at once, so I came here as soon as we parked.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, grabbing the bag. “Food?”

“It wasn’t necessary, we prepared everything,” you say.

“I’ll never show up at your house with empty hands, darling,” she replies. “Also, I wanted you to try some of my specialties, I couldn’t wait anymore.”

A warm smile spreads on your face as you feel you can finally breathe again. Maybe this won’t be a disaster. “I can’t wait to taste them.”

Haechan was right. His family is loud. But it’s a kind of loudness you missed for so long, you can’t complain. His family is nice, and you can easily slide into conversations with them. The afternoon was mostly calm, you talked to get to know each other and ease the tension, you showed them the house —there wasn’t much to show, but they appreciated it anyway— and you even talked about future plans.

But now you’re alone in the kitchen, placing the plates you used for the appetizers in the sink, and when you smell smoke, you know it’s time for everything that went well until now to turn into a mess.

“Oh God, fuck no,” you curse under your breath, blocking your nose with your hand as you wave away the smoke from the oven and try to open it. “Not tonight, it can’t be fucking possible.”

“Hey, what’s going on — oh,” Haechan says, entering the kitchen after he hears the clattering and your murmuring.

“It burned. I burned the fucking lasagna. I have to make a good impression on your family and I burn it, I just burn it,” you almost cry, panicking over the burned pasta in the oven dish that now sits on the countertop. “Everything was supposed to be perfect, I had it all planned, and now, oh my god, the meat, check the meat,” you rant, turning around to check the oven again.

Haechan sighs, head peeking out of the kitchen door. “Sorry, just wait a sec, we’ll be there with the first,” he warns his family before locking the door behind him, not waiting for their answer. It’s not like they care much, busy eating bread, drinking delicious wine, and still admiring the beautiful job you and him did with the decorations.

“Hey, look at me,” he says, blocking you in place. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It was supposed to be the first big serving of our dinner,” you whine, furrowing. “Our first Christmas dinner together and I fuck it up.”

“You didn’t,” he says, looking behind you, trying to hide his face because yes, it is burned, but he’s sure you can find a solution. You two always do. “We’ll fix it.”

“I won’t serve your family a burned lasagna, I refuse,” you cry, hiding in the crook of his neck. “What will your mom think of me?”

He chuckles. “Really? My mom is in love with you, she didn’t stop complimenting you for one second. The way you look, how smart you are, how pretty this place is and how well you keep it, the delicious food you’ve prepared. I’m sure she’ll have a story for a burned something too, come on.”

“No, let’s take the first layer off,” you say, pushing him away. “It’s ugly.”

“First,” he says, coughing, “we’ll open the window, alright? I don’t want to poison ourselves.” You watch him as he does and then go back to the mess in front of you. “And now, let’s fix this.”

You two take the first layer off, but you don’t feel better, that’s not supposed to be the last layer. You put so much love into it, finishing it with mozzarella and cheese, and now it’s burnt.

“It looks terrible, they will think I don’t know how to cook,” you huff.

“I know how to fix it, any parmesan cheese left?” Haechan asks, and you nod, opening the fridge to hand him the box with it in it. You watch him as he puts it on, hiding the tomato sauce, and making it look a bit better, and you think that he’s always the one fixing your mistakes. “See? It’s perfect now.”

You groan because it’s not what you planned. But it’s still better than before. “Let’s not make them wait longer.”

“Everything alright? Something happened in there?” His father asks when you two come out of the kitchen, closing the door behind, so the air in there can change, but you won’t freeze in the living room.

“Yeah, just a minor problem,” Haechan explains sitting the dish down, and you know he wants to pretend nothing happened, but you can’t keep it in.

“I burned it,” you confess. “I’m sorry, but I got distracted here talking and I forgot about it, and I burned it. And we took the burned part out, but this is not my lasagna. I’m a master at it, and I’m sorry this mess is your first encounter with it.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his mom says, “all the things I burned all the time. Try to manage four little demons and it will be surprising when you don’t make mistakes in the kitchen.”

“Hey! We’re angels,” his youngest brother, Dongwook, complains. “Also, can I have the burned part? I love it when it’s crispy.”

“It’s burnt, not crispy, it’s bad for you,” you say, but his big eyes pleading you, make you look at his parents for approval.

“Can you bring it here, please? We’ll see how bad it is,” his father says.

“Dad, Dongwook, you don’t need to see it,” Haechan intervenes, and you know he’s doing it to protect you but you reassure him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Sit, it’s fine. I’ll go take it.”

You take a deep breath and enter the kitchen again before coming out with the plate with what you and Haechan took off. “Here’s the mess.”

“This is not burnt,” Dongwook jumps in his seat, grabbing the plate and smiling happily. “You took out the best part!”

You look at his mother with concern because that is burned, maybe not a lot —you took out the completely black parts and only kept what could be somehow saved, less than half of the top layer— but it’s not crispy either.

Mrs. Lee just shrugs and tells you not to worry with a wave of the hand and you relax a bit.

“If it’s not good you don’t have to eat it, we have the meat, it’s still cooking, but it’s good,” you say as Haechan puts a slice in each plate. “I’ll get up in a few minutes to make sure that won’t burn.”

“Why are you so stern with yourself?” His sister, Dasom, asks and you freeze.

“Dasom,” Haechan scolds.

“What?” She scoffs. “She’s cool, if I was her, I would be annoying in the opposite way.”

You chuckle and lower your head because they’re so nice to you.

“You can’t ask people you’re not close with these questions,” he retorts, clearly not caring that her comment was supposed to be a positive one.

“It’s fine, Hyuck,” you say, reaching for his hand now that he’s sitting back at its place next to you. “I’m just a bit nervous and I want this dinner to go well. I wanted everything to be as perfect as I planned and…” when things don’t go as planned, I go insane, your son and brother was a victim firsthand, “…when they don’t, it just throws me off a bit. But it’s fine.”

“Shit!” Daehyun, the middle child, screams.

“Ya!” Mrs. Lee slaps his arm, glaring in an admonition to not say swear words.

“This is good!” he says, ignoring his mother. “Perfect. Girl, if this is not your best lasagna your best one is Star Michelin worth it!”

“Oh, no, that’s too much,” you say, starting to breathe again because for a moment you feared he had found a bone or nerve or something else in it. But you can’t hide the smile on your face when the entire family praises you, the little one even telling you to always burn it because he loves the crispy layer. You’re sure they’re exagerating a bit to cheer you up, but you still think it’s kind enough that they care to put a smile on your face.

Haechan nudges you subtly. “Told you,” he whispers, and you smile.

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, shyly meeting their gazes and feeling full as you stare at their happy faces.

And you remind yourself that it’s fine if things don’t always go as planned, sometimes mistakes and unforeseen can bring nice things. If it wasn’t for the unexpected, you wouldn’t have Haechan by your side and you wouldn’t be having a happy Christmas dinner with your new family.

You’re happy, and you feel at home.

“Mom,” Haechan whines, hiding his face against your shoulder before lifting it again, letting out another heavy sigh, “you didn’t have to bring the photo album here.”

“Oh, she did,” you chuckle, sitting better on the couch to be turned toward his mom who’s sitting next to you with the book resting on her legs.

You feel Haechan’s head rest against you again, this time completely given up and ready to face the humiliation.

“Are there embarrassing pics of us too?” His sister asks, sitting on the arm of the couch, leaning on her mom.

“Probably,” Mrs. Lee giggles before opening the book.

As the photos pass by, you can’t help but wonder why he’s so embarrassed. “You haven’t changed a bit,” you say, turning to him, moving your arm so you can wrap it around his shoulder, and his head presses against your chest.

“Thanks, exactly what I needed to hear,” he scoffs, his voice filled with sarcasm.

“You still have the same smile,” you point out, “and the mischievous grin.”

“Oh, that has always been him. Every time he did something he wasn’t supposed to do, or ruined something, that little smirk was there. I couldn’t even get mad at him,” his mom explains, and you smile at the image forming in your mind.

“Don’t pout,” you pinch his cheek, making him yelp, “it’s cute.”

“As long as you don’t have any from my teenage years, we’re fine,” he says, making his siblings laugh. “It’s not funny. You had the same phase as me,” he points at the two oldest, “and you are in it right now.”

“I’m not. I’m cool, unlike you.”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Look at this!” You scream, pointing a finger at a picture of him at the pool, he’s wearing a life vest and has a pool float around him, and his smile is so big as he waves at the camera with both hands.

“We went to the pool that day, he didn’t know how to swim, he even ate with the lifesaver on,” his dad says, eliciting another groan from him.

“Stubborn even as a child,” you joke, intertwining your hands.

“Let’s not get there,” his sister rolls her eyes, and Haechan pokes his tongue out in reply.

“You have curly hair?” You ask after seeing other pictures of him.

“Wavy, I would say,” he replies, shrugging.

“You look even softer like this. How did you not want to bite him every two seconds?” You ask his mom, and she laughs.

“The cuteness of his face really saved him from a lot of troubles,” she says. “Remember when you stole Mrs. Park’s apples?”

“I didn’t steal them, I had no idea about capitalism and economy. She gave them to me once, and I thought I could just take them,” he explains. “Turns out the real world is not that easy.”

“Uhm, a young thief, I didn’t know you were such trouble,” you tease, and he glares at you but then breaks in a laugh. “But seriously, you should wear your natural hair more often, I always thought you would perm them somehow or steal my products to curl them, I had no idea they were natural.”

“I always told him he looked better like that, never listened,” Dasom chimes in. “But I’m sure he will listen to the love of his life,” she mocks in a high-pitched voice and Haechan throws her a pillow.

You’d laugh at their exchange if only being called ‘the love of his life’ didn’t make your brain short-cut for a few seconds and send the beats of your heart to an insane rhythm.

“The love of your life, ugh?” You whisper.

“You know you are,” he says, smiling at you. “Or does this scare you away?”

“Not even your emo phase scared me away, so nope, I don’t think this will.”

“Hey! You didn’t see that yet.”

“But we’re getting close, the middle school years are around the corner,” his mom says.

The middle school years don’t scare you away, if it’s possible it all makes you love him even more. But the pictures you loved the most were the ones of the family. The ones where he’s holding his sibling after their births, the ones with them on their bikes, on a swing, while playing football or going down a slide. The ones of their summers, mostly at the few parks they had near because it was hard to go somewhere else, but it didn’t matter. You find yourself in them, glimpses of your family and the struggles you went through, always ending in little things that were enough to make everyone happy because being together was all that mattered. And you find yourself in them even now, as they talk, telling you stories, bickering over details that are insignificant but at the same time mean everything, teasing each other in ways only siblings can do. And you miss that, you feel a deep hole in your chest as you watch Haechan laugh with his sister. The way he talks to her, teases her, but at the same time has her back, reminds you of your brother and you. You feel the same void when you look at his parents, how they smile at their kids, the gentle touches of his mom, and the awkward way of demonstrating love of his dad. It all brings you home, and you wonder for a second what it would’ve been like… if only your parents were there too, if only the holiday weren’t such a slap in the face.

But after the cold shower, you feel a warm embrace. When his mom’s touch reaches you with soft pats on your knees or shoulder. When his sister talks to you to side against him. When his dad tells you he will show you how to carve wood. When his brothers eat your gingerbread men and keep praising you.

What could’ve been doesn’t matter because there is something now. This is good. You see a light at the end of the tunnel. You feel that your ‘what ifs’ might turn into reality one day, that maybe not next year, but in three, your family will be here too, and you will tell your stories just the same. Because you have a lot of them, and you’re sure your parents would get along with Haechan’s so well. This is warm. There’s not the cold of your lonely apartment or the awkward, abrupt silence as Johnny’s mom went back to her words, terrified of ruining your day. The void that opened in your heart is easily filled by them, and even if you can’t follow everything perfectly, and sometimes it gets overwhelming, you have Haechan’s hand on yours. He never leaves it, it’s there, right on top of yours, caressing your skin, keeping you grounded.

But then the question everyone has avoided comes. It’s like a drop falling on a vase full to its brim, and it freezes you and Haechan right on the spot.

“Can I ask where are your parents?”

“Mom,” Haechan is the first to talk, the stern gaze he gives his mom makes you feel worse than the question she asked.

“Sorry, I… I didn’t know, I thought she wanted maybe a break to call them or —”

“Mom!”

“It’s fine,” you stop him, looking into his eyes to calm him. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to tell them. They were doing fine without knowing anything,” he replies, looking at you. You can feel the anger in his voice and his eyes.

“I can tell bits,” you say. “Small steps, remember? You taught me that.”

You can feel the confused gazes in the room, and the attention annoys you more than having to explain yourself.

When you turn around, you see his mom, who is about to apologize again, but you stop her by lifting your hand. “My parents are not here,” you say. “I mean it’s obvious, and I guess you want to know why. I’m…” you chuckle nervously. “I’m pretty sure we… we go along well, and we’re family now… right?” You ask hesitantly.

“Yeah, of course, you were family the moment I saw Haechan’s eyes shine bright when he spoke about you,” his mom says, and you smile.

“Good. And families should be open with each other, but there are some things I… I still want to keep to myself.”

When Haechan hears your voice shake, he places his hand on your back, and you relax at the touch. “Me and my parents basically don’t talk anymore. We text for the birthdays, and the important holidays but that’s it. There’s a reason behind it and I think no one is to blame, something happened and the three of us reacted badly, so I don’t want you to think they’re bad.”

“We’re sorry,” they say at the same time, and you chuckle.

“We would never think that anyway, not without knowing people’s stories,” his mom says. “I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t think that since you didn’t bring it up, you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m glad you did, so you at least know this of me,” you reassure her. “And I’m sorry I’ve been quiet about myself. I prefer present-me to past-me, especially if I can’t talk about… if I can’t tell the full story.”

“It’s like Haechan’s middle school pictures,” his sister says, clearly to take some pressure off your shoulders, and you laugh. “Imagine seeing the photos and not telling that he did that to get a girl’s attention.”

“Dasom, it was a serious moment!” Haechan says.

“What? She laughed! She’s prettier when she laughs, and she was sulking. You shouldn’t want to see your girlfriend sad,” she justifies, sipping on her drink, and you high-five her.

“I don’t like you two being so close,” he jokes, pulling you back next to him. But with the corner of your eyes, you notice that his face is much more relaxed now.

“But seriously, I… I thought I could talk about it, I do with him,” you say, pointing at Haechan. “But your stories were so happy and I miss that kind of thing, you know, a family like yours, so I prefer to listen to you. It made me happy, and I don’t want to make me and all of you sad.”

You can see the pity behind their eyes. They don’t know what happened, but they can guess, and anything it’s not a happy guess, so they’ll want to tell you something but you stop that from happening.

“And since it’s almost midnight, and we need to open the gifts soon, why don’t we lighten the mood with some music?” You say, standing up. “Dasom, what about your karaoke?”

She gasps, staring at Haechan behind you. “You told her?”

“Of course, I needed her to be ready.”

“I wouldn’t have done that here, with her, on our first meeting,” she says.

“But I want you to, I used to do it with my brother, so it would mean the world to me.” You see that when you talk about your brother it’s like she realizes it, something makes her understand what happened, but she doesn’t say anything. She smiles, gets up, and grabs your hand. You jokingly find yourself thinking that if anything will ever go wrong with Haechan, you might try to date her.

“I’ll go get something else to drink,” Haechan says, getting up, “you two monsters come with me.”

The rest of the night goes smoothly. You sang for a while before sitting on the floor around the coffee table to eat the dessert you and Haechan’s mom prepared. Popped the champagne when the clock hit midnight, exchanged gifts (his mother gave you two homemade matching sweaters, they were so beautiful you struggled to have a normal reaction), and then played board games.

“I really wish you could stay but this place is so small, I wouldn’t know where to make you sleep,” you say when you’re exchanging goodbyes.

“You worry too much, honey,” Mrs. Lee says, hugging you. “Everything was perfect, from this afternoon to the dinner, and then the photos, the singing. I never had so much fun. And you know what, I was truly sorry for your lasagna, but it was so nice to not be the one that has to worry about that for once,” she jokes, eliciting a quiet laugh from you.

“I’m glad you had fun. I never planned a Christmas dinner before, and I feared making you come here from the afternoon would’ve bored you or something, but I think it was a great idea.”

“It was. And for being your first time, you were amazing. You have nothing to worry about, also the mistakes and the funny things end up in the stories we tell in the years to come, right?”

“Right.”

“Get dressed,” she orders the youngest before glaring at Daehyun, “you’re twenty, you should do your things without me telling you.”

You laugh when they resume bickering while putting their coats on. You catch her rolling her eyes before bringing her attention to you.

“You know, Donghyuck didn’t bring many people at home before. Most of the time, I had to guess he had some flings or something, but even the ones he felt were worth meeting us, weren’t like you. And I’ve seen him in love, I’ve seen him do crazy stuff, but I’ve never seen him like this,” she smiles fondly. “A mother notices a lot of things, and I’ve noticed his touches on your hand, how he plays with your hair or caresses your back, I’ve seen him rage when one of us overstepped. But most importantly, I see the love. I already had the feeling through the phone calls, but seeing his eyes light up, watching him get lost in you with every breath… wow, I fear you put a spell on him,” she chuckles. Her gentle eyes move between you and her son as a soft smile curls her lips, creating some wrinkles on her cheeks.

“He loves me like nobody ever loved me before, and…” you pause, turning your attention on him, watching him laugh with his dad, smiling in reflection before your eyes are on his mother another time. “I know it might sound exaggerated from the outside, but his love saved me more than I knew I needed to be saved.”

She smiles, caressing your arm. “Yeah, I noticed that too. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know if that made you bond more, but if you ever fear he’s not into this, I want you to know that he’s serious. When he told me he moved out of his apartment to live with his girlfriend, I was speechless. I thought he was never going to settle down, especially not so soon. But he did that, and even if he was afraid, he was happy about it.”

You want to tell her he was afraid for you, but you can’t or else she might think you don’t love him just as much, so you smile and nod. “This was a big step.” It’s not a lie, it was a big step for him too. His life was completely different before you two met and everything changed.

“Oh, but an amazing one. Look at how cute your place is, it feels like home. Even if it’s not big, even if it doesn’t have design pieces, even if it’s not in the center of town, you’ve got each other. And that’s something you can’t ever take for granted,” she says, and you see her smile sadden a bit as she looks over at her husband, who’s now busy talking with Haechan and Dasom. “But I don’t want to talk about what I had to go through with my husband, what matters is that we made it, and we raised four wonderful kids. And I don’t know if you want them or not, it doesn’t matter, there’s time to grow and change, but you’re young now, and have all your life to live, just the two of you. I just want you to remember to always have each other’s back. Even if you both decide you want to make another big step, you have to have each other to give love and water another flower.”

You wipe away a tear, lowering your head, and she coos, caressing your cheek. “No, darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure her. Her words made you sad for other reasons, stinging right at the missing piece left by the absence of your parent’s love. “I’m very lucky to have him. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Mom,” Haechan’s voice rings behind you, and you notice his worried look when he sees you wipe away some other tears.

“We were just talking, I’m about to cry too, it’s normal,” she explains, smiling at you and you smile back.

“Sure?” He asks you and you nod. “Yeah, also, I’m just a bit tired.”

“We’ll go now, seriously. We stayed way too long,” she says, calling the sibling at her side with a snap of the fingers.

“Tomorrow at lunch you’ll be here, right?” Haechan asks. His arm wraps around your waist, and he pulls you closer, thumb caressing your side in gentle motions.

“I do not plan on eating at that hotel, so you can bet I’m going to be seated here, eating the amazing food she cooks,” his dad replies, and you chuckle.

“Even if I burn it?” you joke.

“Yes, even if you poison it, honestly.”

“He ate something at the buffet when we arrived and wanted to change the hotel,” Haechan’s sister adds, rolling her eyes, and making you all laugh.

“That’s where you get the overdramatic-ness,” you whisper only for Haechan to hear, and he mocks you with a stupid face.

“Well, time to go, we annoyed them enough,” Dasom says, pushing the younger out of the door. “Merry Christmas, and thank you for everything!”

“Merry Christmas to you too!” You and Haechan greet again, watching as they all make their way out of the apartment. “See you tomorrow.”

“Cover up, it’s cold outside,” you say. “And drive safely, please.”

“We will, it’s not far from here,” his dad reassures you.

“Goodnight!”

When you make sure they enter the elevator, you close the door behind, and you sigh.

“Yeah, I now realize I should’ve made you meet them sooner for a shorter amount of time,” Haechan says right away with a hint of irony in his voice.

“You’re kidding, they’re amazing. I love them.”

“So you’re not overwhelmed?”

“Maybe a bit, but they’re so much fun. Your mother is lovely. And I love your sister, I need her number so we can become friends.”

“Nope, not happening. You two together will be the death of me,” he laughs, shaking his head.

You stick your tongue out before opening your arms to him, begging for a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in, breathing deeply your sweet scent as he caresses your back. “You did so well today, I’m so proud of you.”

You don’t reply, just smile in the crook of his neck as your arms hold him tighter and feel all the pent-up stress leave your shoulders. You let his perfume lull you, and the warmth of his body calm you. You two stay there for a while, he leaves small kisses on the top of your head, and you chuckle when it tinkles, and just hug him tighter. And you think that, even if you’re always all over each other, hugging is not something you do a lot, and you need to change that. But you’re both starting to feel the tiredness of the day, and you’re the first to pull away.

“Come on, let’s go get changed, I want to slump in our ugly pajamas together.”

In less than twenty minutes, you both have showered and changed into your matching pajamas, the lights in the living room are off, and you’re ready to go to bed.

When you enter the bedroom, you see Haechan at the window, looking outside, and you quickly reach him, hugging him from behind and starting to leave kisses on his neck, making him giggle.

“What?” He hums when he looks behind and finds you staring at him with big doe eyes.

“You were so cute as a kid,” you whisper.

“Yeah, I noted that you would’ve had a crush on me if we met during kindergarten,” he chuckles, and you do the same.

“No, dummy,” you scoff. “I mean, yes, probably. You were a charmer with your pretty curls and that smile. Would’ve swept little me right off my feet.”

He turns around, hugging you. “Should we go back in time and see?”

“Nah, I like our romantic start with the fuck in the car, more appropriate for adult-us,” you joke, and he laughs. “But little you got me a baby fever.”

“Oh,” Haechan says, furrowing. “You run fast when you want to.”

You shake your head, snickering. “I’m not that serious, I don’t want it right now, but... it sparked in my mind just for a moment.”

“Yes, we would make pretty kids, that’s what you’re saying.”

“You ruin all the fun with all this mind-reading,” you pout, crossing your arms on your chest, and he laughs, kissing your pout.

“Sorry,” he says. “I can’t give you a kid right now, but we can practice, so we know what to do when we want one.”

You stare at him. “Tell me this was not supposed dirty talking because it’s the worst line that ever came out of your mouth.”

“Hey! I was trying to be sexy.”

“You’d be sexier if you just straight up told me you wanted to fuck. Because it’s also what I’ve been subtly trying to tell you.”

“Nah-ah, you said you wanted my kids,” he teases, kissing your lips.

You roll your eyes. “Not what I wanted to say.”

“I don’t reckon a breeding kink, though. Missed something from your bdsm test results?”

“Shut up, that’s weird. I was being sweet before, not horny. And breeding kink is only funny when it doesn’t turn into actual pregnancy.”

He stares at you with a confused face, and you scoff, waving him off with your hand.

“Can I give you the special Christmas gift?” You say, changing subject, batting your lashes seductively at him.

“Sure.”

“Sit on the bed,” you order and then watch as he does what you say before you take a few steps back so there’s some distance between you.

“You will not striptease with that ugly nightwear on?”

You roll your eyes and sigh heavily. “Why do you have to ruin all the fun? This is the best part of it all, the ugly nightwear. Now, will you let me do what I have to do, or do I have to go to somebody else? You know, we don’t have Mark next door anymore, but the neighborhood down the corridor is always so nice to me, and he used to flirt before you moved here, so I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

“Oh, shut up! He’s lowkey a creep, and he always stares at you as if he’s never seen a woman his entire life. He probably wouldn’t even make you come, but he’ll nut in his pants as soon as you’ll touch him.”

You chuckle at his accurate description. “So, you don’t want all this to go to waste, right?” you ask, pointing at your body from head to toe. “You better shut up and let me do what I have to do.”

“Go on,” he says, nodding, and then sits more comfortably on the bed.

Your dance as you strip is not exactly the sexiest thing on earth with the fluffy, baggy pants and no music playing in the background, but Haechan is having a lot of fun anyway watching your hips move, your hands run on your body, and your teasing faces.

But it quickly turns serious when you lift your top off your head, revealing a red lace bra.

“Fuck,” Haechan mutters, sucking his breath in and squeezing his thighs for a second. He has your body imprinted in the back of his mind by now, yet, every time, you leave him breathless.

You keep going, letting the pants fall on the floor and gracefully picking them up to lay them on the chair, hips swinging as your hands run on your exposed body. You turn around, giving him a perfect view of your ass, and he bites back a moan. You chuckle delightedly, feeling shivers form on your skin when you hear him shuffle with his pants, probably pulling them down to ease the boner.

You bend over, looking at him upside down, winking when he meets your gaze, before giggling when your eyes fall on his fist wrapped around his dick.

“Hard already?” You ask teasingly, standing up and facing him.

“What does it look like?”

You pout, tilting your head. “I guess we have to do something about it. It’s too easy to turn you on.”

“It’s not my fault you know all the right bottoms to push,” he replies.

You huff. “Please, I just danced a bit, like this,” you stop, swinging your hips again and touching your body, cupping your boobs in the see-through red bra before reaching your neck and moving down again. “And bent over.”

He sighs again, but you notice the gulp when he follows your body. “Dance for me?”

You smile. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”

“Not yet,” he breathes out. “Just dance for me, I’ll put some music on.”

You smile and start moving, this time with slow music filling the silence. The Christmas lights hanging in the bedroom make the room look like a club, and you quickly get into the vibe.

Seeing Haechan stroking his hand on his hard dick lazily while his eyes are stuck on you, is turning you on much quicker than expected. It goes on for a while, your body moving to the rhythm while his hand gradually picks up the pace, especially when you get in more provocative positions or get close to him, only to leave him with nothing.

“Touch yourself,” he orders after long minutes of silence. “Bring the armchair in front of me and touch yourself with me.”

A small gasp leaves your lips, but you’re quick to follow the instructions. You slowly sit, trying to maintain the sexy vibe.

“Don’t undress.” His voice stops you right when your hands are about to pull the panties down. “You look too good in that set to throw it on the floor already.”

You smirk, and then your hands move on your body. You throw your head back on the chair as you enjoy the sensation of your hands running on your skin, teasing your nipples, and slowly —too slowly, from Haechan’s annoyed groan— you start parting your legs. It’s clear it’s not enough when he says a stern call of your name.

“Something wrong? Do you need something?” You tease, tilting your head to the side while your hands never stop touching your body, everywhere but where he wants you to.

His eyebrow raises, and he scoffs. “You shouldn’t be naughty on Christmas, you know that?”

You snicker, rolling your head back for a second before locking your gaze again. “Pfft, I already had my gifts, I can be as naughty as I want to.”

“But do you? Do you want to?” He teases you, leaning a bit over. “I can see the dark spot from here, are you sure you want to punish yourself any longer?”

You gulp at the intensity of his eyes. One second, you two are in a teasing-switchy-mode, and then one second later, he has this hold on you with just one look, pinning you down, leaving you no choice but to obey.

“Good girl,” Haechan praises as soon as your legs spread open, one dangling down the seat, the other dangling on the armrest, and your fingers start moving your clit.

A gasp of relief comes out of your lips, and your eyes flutter shut.

“Nah-ah, look at me. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”

You lock eyes with him, feeling warmer. You love the way he looks at you, you’re sure you’ll never get tired of it. His eyes are full of lust and love, making you feel desperately wanted and loved. You feel so comfortable in that, knowing you can let him do whatever you both want and never feel used. It is a recurring thought every time you’re exposed to him because it’s something that you didn’t experience in the past.

“Can — can you tell me what to do?” You shily ask.

His lips curl in a smirk. “You want me to give you instructions? Not in the mood to have control tonight?”

You shake your head. You don’t feel like it, even if you love teasing and being bratty, tonight you want to leave the reins in his hands and let him guide you.

“Good.” Haechan clears his throat and sits better on the bed, his hand still slowly touching himself while the other lays flat on the mattress to keep his body up. “Tease your nipples with your other hand, I know you love to play with your boobs.”

Your hand moves up swiftly, not wasting a second, and a shaky breath comes out of your lips as your fingers rub the hard, sensitive bud. They’re already hard from the chilly temperature of the room, the heat warming it up just enough to be warm if dressed up, but soon get even harder from the stimulation.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks with a teasing edge in his voice, and you nod. “Move the panties to the side, let me see how wet you are.”

As soon as you move the crotch to the side, his eyes intensely stare between your legs as he licks his lips, watching your cum drip down, and you have to bite back a moan.

He snickers and you raise a brow. “And to think all you did was dance for me.”

Your throat goes dry at the mockery but you find the words anyway. “But you — you are touching yourself.”

Haechan chuckles again, throwing his head back to push back his hair before lifting it. “Yes? It turns you on so much to see my hand wrapped around my dick? Want to have your hand wrapped around it?”

You nod as you bring your thumb to your lips, biting a hangnail. And he laughs. “You’re serious about me guiding you, torturing your pretty nails to contain yourself and don’t let a finger slip inside of you.”

At the call out, you move away your thumb but he only laughs louder. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Slip a finger in and tell me what’s running in your mind.”

Your finger slips in with ease, bringing relief, but words struggle to come out of your mouth as you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze. “I want to — I want to suck it.”

Haechan smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Really? Want to be on your knees, between my legs?”

You nod with much more enthusiasm needed, but you don’t care. It’s too tempting now that he has his legs vulgarly spread, his thick thighs begging to be touched as you take his dick in your mouth, and his eyes slightly glossy with pleasure. It’s not a common sight, but you love it. Looking up and seeing his face wrecked, his eyes teary, but what you love the most are his moans and whimpers, so high and needy, as he unconsciously starts fucking your mouth to reach his high.

“Maybe I’ll let you do it after, but first take care of yourself…”

You huff but don’t complain further and start to move your finger faster.

“Good girl. Push another finger in, come on, fuck yourself faster,” he encourages, clearly understanding you’re growing impatient and want more. “You’re so filthy,” he snickers. “So fucking wet, listen to the pretty sounds you make.”

A muffled moan is your reply to his comment, but your body speaks more than words. Your head rolls back and your eyes close before you remember he told you he wants you to keep eye contact, and your pussy gets even wetter with each pump of your fingers.

“Please, another one,” you beg. Typically two fingers are perfect, but with each sound of his hand sliding up and down on his dick, and the sight of his length throbbing as droplets of cum roll down his cock and hand, you can’t help but want to fool your body that he’s inside of you.

He smirks, but it’s not as teasing as before, he’s starting to falter too. “Go on, add another one. Stuff yourself full, pretend all you want that’s my dick inside of you.” It’s not much the dirty talk, but the way he knows you so well that makes you shiver and close your legs for a split second. There’s nowhere to hide with him.

You bite your lips to push down your throat a pathetic, high moan when he stops his movements to take his top off, leaving it on the other side of the bed. He’s completely naked now, one hand running in his long brown locks before it goes back to his side to keep his body up, and the other wraps around his cock.

“You’re so hot,” you whine, huffing. And he chuckles, cheeks blushing a bit. You rarely compliment him during sex, too fucked out to vocally tell him what he does to you, and it’s always your body speaking to him. So when it happens, he’s not used to it.

“Am I? Or are you only turned on by this?” He jokes, head pointing between his legs.

You shake your head. “It’s you, fuck. Your hair, your lips, the moles on your skin.”

He chuckles, stopping your praises. “My moles?”

“Yeah, your moles, I love them,” you confess. He should’ve got this a while ago, considering you always let your fingers brush them and connect them with invisible strings. “I love your stomach, your waist, your thighs. And your hands, fuck, they’re so beautiful.”

This time it’s a genuine smile that spreads on his face before he lowers it to hide the effect your words had on him, and you smile too.

“Want to come?” He asks, still overwhelmed by the praises, and you giggle. He’s always so confident, you can’t believe he’s acting shy now.

“Yes, please. Together?”

“Together.”

You pull the third finger out, prioritizing swiftness and deepness over thickness — you’ll have time for that. And start to quickly move your two fingers in and out while your thumb rubs your clit. Your other hand plays with your boobs with more eagerness, pinching the nipples and cupping the soft flesh as you please. And soon enough you’re both coming. Haechan’s fast strokes and loud moans are the last thing you need to come, unexpectedly squirting and hitting him too.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans, biting his lips, hips squirming as more cums keeps coming out of him, messily hitting his stomach, chest, and legs.

Your head rolls back as the pleasure starts slowing down, your fingers are still lazily riding out the orgasm, and your eyes fall shut as your lungs take deep breaths.

“Fuck, come here, this is torture,” Haechan groans, getting up to pull you on the bed on top of him, not waiting to be steady on his knees.

You chuckle at his eagerness, honestly, you’re surprised he lasted that long without touching you.

“Next time we’re doing this,” he hums, kissing you, “you’ll sit between my legs. I need to feel you close.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you giggle, pushing him flat down the mattress, and straddling his lap. Your hips grind on him, smearing the cum that splashed on his stomach on you, but you don’t care. You’re focused on kissing him, letting your fingers run in his long hair while enjoying the sensation of his running on your skin.

“Mhh, are you going to be offended if I ride you instead of sucking your dick?” You ask, smiling awkwardly.

He bursts into a loud laugh and then shakes his head. “Do you think I’d say no to that?”

“I don’t know, I was kinda drooling over that, maybe the idea turned you on.”

Haechan shrugs, pulling you into another kiss as his hands cup your ass. “It did turn me on, but I can’t stand another second not pressed against you. Why don’t we flip position, mhh? You wanted to be pampered tonight.”

You smile, nodding. “Yeah, I’d prefer it. I don’t think I would last long on top.”

He rolls you on your back, his lips never leaving yours and you chuckle in the kiss, trying to get rid of your panties, but he stops you again. “Keep them on, please.” You do as told, choking on a silent moan when his fingers brush your clit as he helps you keep them to the side.

“You love this set, don’t you?”

He nods, giving two tugs on his dick as he starts pressing it against your soaked slit. “Looks good on you.”

A breathy, shaky moan slips from both of you as he sinks in, slowly as he always does, enjoying the feeling of every inch filling you up until he bottoms down.

“You alright?” Haechan asks, and you nod with a small smile on your face.

“Please fuck me?” You ask, trying to don’t show how eager you are.

He chuckles but doesn’t tease you, instead, he places a hand on your hip and the other at the side of your head on the bed as his hips start moving. Each thrust is deep and long, knocking the air out of your lungs. And you get lost in the smooth movements of his body, rolling so easily to please you —God bless all those years of dancing. Your head rolls back when he snuggles in the crook of your neck to leave kisses on your skin, and your arms fly to wrap around him and bring him closer.

You barely notice how one of his hands sneaks under your arched back to free you from the bra, and only sigh at the feeling of freedom that quickly gets overwhelmed with pleasure when his lips wrap around your hard nipples.

“Fuck, Hyuck,” you whimper with your fingers clenched hard around his hair. You’re tempted to look at him, staring at his concentrated face as he sucks on your nipple, sending more shivers down your spine, but you’re too lost in pleasure and can’t bring yourself to look up.

You bite your lips when he moves to the other side and the chill air of the room lingers over the warmth left by his mouth. The constant stimulation of your sensitive buds sends new shivers down your spine and makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Fuck, babe, your boobs are so soft,” Haechan moans against your skin. His other hand creeps up and wraps around the neglected one, squeezing tight.

A breathy moan rolls from your hips as your hand tangles in his hair and your hips jerk up against him.

“What? Why are you pulling away?” You ask in a whine when Haechan moves away from you and pulls out.

“I don’t think you want me to rip them, right?” Haechan snickers as his fingers pull your panties down.

“Oh, I thought — never mind,” you mumble, feeling heat creep on your face.

He smiles, his gaze is gentle as ever as he lifts your face. “You thought I was leaving you?”

You nod shyly, biting your lips.

“I would never. See? I’m right here,” he reassures you. His lips meet yours, one hand cups your face and the other helps him slide into you again.

You moan in the kiss while your hands reach his hair to pull him against you. “Want you,” you slur, watery eyes looking into his.

“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “I just needed to get them out of the way.”

Your lips meet again, and never truly part again. His rhythm picks up again, but this time he pushes your legs against your chest, reaching deeper, making you feel every inch more.

“Hyuck,” you whine, throwing your head back as you gasp for more air.

“Feels good? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?”

You nod frenetically. “Feels — feels good.”

Haechan smirks, thumb brushing on your burning cheek before running over your quivering lips. “You’re so beautiful when you’re vulnerable like this,” he whispers, and you’re not sure you were supposed to hear it because it feels as if he’s talking about something else. It’s about you showing yourself fully to him, with no armor, and no mask, and not only during sex.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Taking me so well, so warm and wet,” he mutters under his breath, messily kissing you again, and reaching for your hand to intertwine it with his. With each drag of his dick inside of you, you feel closer to the edge, and automatically your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him deeper.

“Fuck,” he groans, not expecting you to do that, and you feel his hips falter for a second, but he swiftly picks up the steady rhythm.

“I’m close,” you whisper, and he hums.

“Wait for me, can you, princess? I’m close too, just — fuck — just a bit more.”

You nod and then feel the urge to do something. You’ve got more comfortable with time, but eye contact can still be pretty hard and vulnerable for you, yet you don’t think much when you cup his face and force him to look straight into your eyes. This time your stomach flutters from love, and you melt in his golden brown eyes looking into yours with nothing but love. And you can’t hold it anymore. “I love you,” you whisper, the sincerity and vulnerability in your voice watered down by lust but clearly there.

Haechan doesn’t expect it; you see it in his eyes widening and you feel it in his hips slowing down for a few seconds. This is the first time it comes out of your lips while you’re having sex, he’s always the one getting a bit more caught up, confessing his love even in these intimate moments, while you save it for other times. He gulps, not knowing what do to, but then a shy smile creeps on his face as he lowers it again; just the time to regain his usual confidence before staring back at you. “I love you, too.”

You smile, feeling warmth spread across your chest, and pull him in a kiss.

And after that, you two are just skin and bones burning in synch in the passion of your love. One of your hands is in his hair, tugging a bit, while the other is wrapped around his shoulder, your nails scraping his delicate skin, and your legs are still wrapped around his waist. While Haechan’s hand is resting on your hip, and the other is holding his body up now that he’s lying closer to you and has more risk of losing balance.

The orgasm washes over you at the same time as he keeps fucking into you and you kiss each other, moaning in the messy meeting of your lips. His fingers dig in your skin and your nails dig in his scalp, but none of you feel pain, just more pleasure as you both ride out your orgasm.

Haechan doesn’t pull out right away. His head falls in the crook of your neck where he leaves more kisses, praising you in whispers, and you lay there with a dumb smile on your face.

“Can I stay here inside of you forever?” He jokes, looking at you with a playful smirk on his face.

You chuckle, shrugging. “I would lie if I said I’d be bothered, but unfortunately it would be impractical.”

“Fine, then just a bit more.”

You both enjoy the intimacy of this closeness, occasionally kissing and caressing each other and when he pulls out of you, you groan, feeling suddenly cold.

“I’ll be back, just let me get something to clean you up,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips before leaving.

Haechan comes back with a wet towel in hand, sits next to you, and gently wipes you clean. Your legs close at the stimulation but his hand on your thighs helps you don’t focus on the fabric passing over your sensitive core. It’s quickly done, and he can come back next to you after a few minutes.

You rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and smile when his hand wraps around you and starts caressing your back after pulling the covers on top of you.

“Thank you,” Haechan whispers, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“For?”

“For trying,” he replies, looking down at you to meet your eyes. “This time of the year is always so hard for you, and even last year you hated it, even if we were already together. I know you used to love it, but I thought it was going to take more time to live it with a light heart, well, as light as it can be,” he chuckles, but it’s an awkward laugh. There’s some pain in his voice, and you know that if it was possible he would take your pain and put it on his shoulders, but he can’t.

You flip on your stomach, to look at him better, but that doesn’t stop his fingers from dancing on your back.

“You underestimate me,” you joke. You’re not sure you want to talk about this now. The holidays are long, you’ve planned the entire week with his family, except for two days, you might still have some lows. But Haechan seems to always appreciate every small step you take, and you feel good in that pride.

“No, I know how hard some things are for you. And even if I want you to get better, I would never force you into anything. And it’s… it just means so much to me that you did all of this for me. I mean, for you too, but you started planning months before, you proposed to invite my family over for me. And trust me, I know that our house is still a sacred safe place for you, and you still don’t easily let people in, but you let them. And letting them in is probably scarier than when you let me in back then. But you did it, because you know how much I love my family and how much I love this month and this celebration, and what you did means everything to me.”

You chuckle, pushing back some tears because you don’t want to cry. “You gave me the strength to do it. I couldn’t stay anchored to the past any longer, it was now or never. If I started hating the holidays even with you by my side, it would’ve been the end of it all. I… once I start relating negative experiences with something I never stop doing that. As much I loved the way the Suhs invited me over in the past years, I knew I couldn’t take another pity-Christmas-dinner. We should have one with them too one day, maybe, but no more pity, I can’t take it anymore.”

Haechan smiles, caressing your face. “You were different when we ate at Johnny’s last time, I think his parents saw that too. And they weren’t walking on eggshells anymore. Let’s be honest, with you it’s not eggshells, it’s bombs, so I can’t blame them.”

A soft laugh rolls off your tongue as your head falls against his chest, but the lighthearted moment comes to an end when a veil of sadness falls on your face.

“Something wrong?”

You shake your head. “No, I just realized some things.”

“About you?”

“About you,” you say. “I feel I will never be able to make you understand how much you changed my life for the better. And I know that in your eyes I sound so dramatic at times, but…” you sigh, eyes falling on the white sheets before meeting his curious gaze again. “But you mean so much to me, and you taught me everything I had forgotten with time. I used to go on with my days, but I didn’t fully live them. I was constantly afraid: of failing, of hurting someone, even killing someone, so I didn’t love, I didn’t feel. All my emotions in the past years were felt by a 30%, just to fool myself that if I didn’t give, if I didn’t put myself out there, I was safe, and… looking back at it now, it sucked.” You stop again, trying to give an order to your thoughts, and Haechan gets it. He doesn’t talk, he waits and listens. Haechan listens. To your words. To your cries. But most importantly to your silence. Because with you, at times, it says much more than words.

“Somehow, I had died with him that day. Not physically, but I was quick to kill myself to punish myself for what happened. And then you brought me back to life. I was so scared with you because now I… I can die again. Now I have something to lose, I have so much to lose, and it should be scary, but I weirdly feel at peace. I know it doesn’t look like it, but I notice it because I scheme for the little things now, and just let life wash over me. I don’t want control of the bigger picture, I can direct the behind-the-scenes, I guess,” you joke, and he laughs too. His face is relaxed, and it feels good to be an open book, to have no fear of opening up and fearing that the other will leave. “Your mom told me something that made me think of this. As long as we’ll have each other’s back, it won’t be as scary. And this would be scary too if I felt that one of us wasn’t 100% sure of this relationship but, I don’t know, I have the impression that we might want to be in this for a long time.”

Haechan chuckles, and then nods, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I like ‘for a long time’. It’s stable but not forever. Let’s be honest, would I want to date you even in the afterlife? Nah, come on, give me a break at least there.”

You laugh and then wrap an arm around his torso. “Just two dates with other ghosts, and then you’re coming back to me.”

“Yeah, fine,” he huffs, but his voice is filled with irony, and then his lips are on yours again.

“Be honest, was the lasagna that good, or did they fake it?” You ask with a furrow on your forehead, still tangled in the hug.

Haechan laughs. “Oh my god, I gave you a mind-blowing orgasm and you’re still thinking about that? But yeah, it was good, if it was bad, you would’ve seen it in their faces. They loved it, and they love you.”

The conversation doesn’t die there, but shifts from funny moments you had yesterday and the plans you have for the days to come. Then you realize you haven’t texted Johnny and his family a Merry Christmas yet; you could’ve done it in the morning, but you were used to waiting at midnight together and even if it’s almost 3 am, you still want to do it to somehow keep your tradition alive.

You grab your phone, and write him a text, finishing it with the promise you’ll also be calling him tomorrow. You have so many things to tell him, you know it’s going to be a long call in the morning as you prepare everything for lunch. And right before you’re about to lock the screen again, Haechan stops you.

“Wait, wait, wait, what? Who’s that?” He says, pointing at the name of a contact and you laugh. “Why are you laughing? What’s funny? My pathetic loser?”

“With a heart at the end,” you add, showing him the phone. “It’s you by the way.”

Haechan gasps offended, but you see it’s all an act and he’s just curious to know why you have him saved like that. “Really? I’m a loser? A pathetic loser?”

“No, you’re my pathetic loser,” you correct him.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, wow, that makes me feel better,” he jokes.

“Well, it’s how I saved you when I got your number three years ago.”

His eyes widen even more, and you’re not sure he’s completely faking it. “And couldn’t change it to something more romantic over the years?”

“This is the romantic version. At first, you weren’t mine, just the cheesy, annoying, simpy, guy Johnny tried to make me hook up with, but now, you are the cheesy, annoying, simpy, love of my life.”

He groans, ripping the pillow from under his head to hide his face and scream in it and you laugh at his reaction. “And then I’m the cheesy, romantic one!” He points out and you only shrug.

“I can change it if you don’t like it,” you say, snuggling closer to him, pulling the pillow away to kiss his jawline and caress his hair back, soft and long, framing his face perfectly.

“Are you kidding? I love it,” he says, pulling you on top of him, and kissing you.

“Good, I’m glad you like it, my pathetic loser.”

It’s late, but you can’t stop talking, tangled up in the sheets, after slipping back into your comfy pajamas, peeing, and leaving the shower for the morning. You tell him the stories you didn’t say today, and he tells you some others his family doesn’t know, and just when the clock hits 4, sleep starts to take over. The soft caresses on your back and his warm body close to yours lull you into a comfortable sleep.

It’s Christmas, you’re in Haechan’s arms, wearing matching pajamas, and your hearts are beating as one. Today will be another long day, but you’re confident it will be amazing, and what’s left of your fears won’t eat you up. They don’t matter, the past doesn’t matter, there’s only one thing that matters now.

There are only three rules left: be alive, love, and be loved.

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo ; @yellowgirllsblog

hits different taglist: @adorejaehyn ; @matchahyuck ; @jjhmk ; @ourbeautifulaffair ; @what-the-jams : @oleoleniall ; @kundann ; @bbagu ; @ismileeprnc-responder ; @produmads ; @zkdlllin ; @yesohhsehun ; @aliceinwhateverland ; @strangevante

taglist with some people that interacted under HD (i hope this doesn’t bother you, just thought you might’ve liked being tagged since you showed love to the first one): @rjtulips ; @lmnhead ; @girlwholoveslpreppyattire ; @lovingvoidgoatee ; @brownsugarbaybee ; @canknot ; @adollsblog ; @ch1llkill ; @bacons-thighs ; @emptynote ; @addyanm ; @marklovexs ; @softieehcficrecs ; @brightestmark ; @jyanigoth ; @haechskies ; @rum-gone-why ; @melloworm ; @cheolctrl ; @taegr0wls ; @onlyseokmins ; @xtrataerrestrial ; @222brainrot ; @johnny-sassville ; @ujisworld ; @cup1dton ; @21497s ; @slushhie ; @sakamoto-hey ; @uyukyeom

taglist with people that interacted with the post: @harrypinks ; cont in comments

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